


the devil may cry

by Over_the_Love204



Series: To Build a Home [10]
Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, F/M, Gen, Genderbending, Gore, Magical Pregnancy, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-01-12 07:04:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 59,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1183309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Over_the_Love204/pseuds/Over_the_Love204
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post "timshel," New Orleans is brimming with trouble - supernatural and otherwise - and Stephanie has found herself in the middle of it all.  Elena must regain control of her bloodlust and her humanity in time to uncover a worrying mystery at Whitmore College, and Damon is becoming increasingly suspicious of his sister's extended absence.</p><p>“I’d like to know why you just had me compel Cami to spy on Marcel.”</p><p>“Because it’s part of my diabolical plan.”</p><p>“Now you sound like Damon.”</p><p>"Well, we can't have that, now can we, love?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. everybody wants to rule the world

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Vampire Diaries/The Originals or any quotes used/borrowed.
> 
> Notes: If you’re still reading, I think that’s awesome! And thanks! I appreciate it and I hope you continue to enjoy and leave positive feedback.

**everybody wants to rule the world**

_“_ _Lately I been, I been losing sleep_  
Dreaming about the things that we could be  
But baby, I been, I been prayin' hard  
Said no more counting dollars  
We'll be counting stars  
Yeah, we'll be counting stars.”

_._

_._

_._

_AUGUST – 2 MONTHS LATER_

She stood in front of a body length mirror in her underthings, her long dark hair tickling her otherwise bare back.  Her toes curled in the soft carpet of her bedroom and the humid New Orleans breeze made her closed curtains flutter from her open window.  Stephanie twisted her body to the side and narrowed her eyes.  She sucked in her stomach, and then pushed out; twisted to look at the other side more critically.    

She tentatively put a hand to her naked, still flat midsection.  There was no noticeable change there and she couldn’t feel anything, but her bra was beginning to become tighter and slightly uncomfortable.  Stephanie hadn’t known much about pregnancy besides the basics when she had studied medicine during one of her stints in university – there had been no need and little interest.  Now, she had the knowledge of several books, many internet websites, and a few doctoral opinions behind her.  Still, no one could blame her for the confused and complex feelings she was having.  She was pregnant. 

Stephanie was _pregnant._ The circumstances were beyond strange and the timing was terrible, but she was going to be responsible for a life that wasn’t a friend’s or Damon’s; it was going to be her child’s.

A thought niggled at the back of her head, in the part of her heart that grieved.  Jeremy Gilbert, her first love in such a long time was dead and not coming back, but still, her thoughts lingered . . . if they’d settled their differences and put aside their fears and concerns and the past and the witches had still performed the spell . . . could the baby insider of her have been _his_?  There was still a small part of her that was in love with that sweet, sweet boy who loved to draw with charcoal and had made her laugh and cared about saving innocents as much as she did.  The boy who stuck by her for so long until he just couldn’t handle it any longer . . . was now dead.  Killed by Silas, who had suspiciously looked just like Damon. 

Stephanie’s phone buzzed.  She let it go to voicemail and then listened to the message left there. 

 _“Hey Stephanie, it’s Caroline . . . again.  We all went on a short road trip, you know, getting it down before school in a few days.  But we all missed you and Elena.  Bonnie was weird, you know because of the Expression stuff.  She acted like she was going through withdrawal the entire summer vacation.  If Kol ever comes back to town, I think she’ll try to blow him up, with or without powers.  I’m sure Elena will be sad that she missed Graduation and everything when she returns to normal . . ._ There was an awkward cough.  Then Caroline barreled on.  _Really, Steph, I don’t understand why you didn’t stay.  We could have used your support during the whole thing with Bonnie and during the ceremony in May.  If you would just pick up the phone a little more often and explain in a little detail . . ._

A sigh.  _Are you going to come to Whitmore?  I know you didn’t apply but I’m sure you could compel some administrators or something.  I hope you’ll call me back – and sooner than last time btw.  Bye, Steph._

Stephanie tossed her phone onto her bed and turned to ruffle through her things to look for something to wear.  Caroline had left almost regular messages over the summer, starting the day of Graduation, explaining their “Bonnie situation” and how Kol had disappeared off the face of the earth, after.  She felt guilty for not returning all – many – of Caroline’s calls, but she had no idea how to explain the situation she’d found herself in without Caroline flying out to New Orleans.  And New Orleans was _not_ a safe place for any of Steph’s friends to be.  She refused to let them get in the middle of the mess brewing in the French Quarter; it was best of they went on to college like they planned, and for Damon to focus on getting Elena to turn her emotions back on. 

If she could just keep them away, they’d be safe.

Stephanie pulled on a pair of jeans and a white tee shirt, with her favorite green sweatshirt and boots.  Then she left the confines of her bedroom.  In the two months she’d spent in NOLA, it had been filled with the monotony of unpacking her clothes and personal items and helping fix the large mansion so that it was suitable for living.  She’d done a lot of wandering, familiarizing herself with the French Quarter, and spending a bit of time watching Marcel and his men.  Elijah and Klaus bickered twenty three hours of the day about New Orleans, the witches, whether or not to release Rebekah from her dagger, and more recently, about the baby and Stephanie’s safety.

Steph was content to let them argue because it didn’t matter to her what they decided; she was not going to be controlled and locked up for nine months.  They just didn’t realize that yet.

She jogged down the elaborate staircase that led from the second story to the parlor, but stopped dead – no pun intended – at the sight in front of her.  “Kl _au_ s,” Stephanie said slowly, “tell me this isn’t what it looks like.  Please.”

“I would, but that would be lying and I don’t really want to lie to you, love.”  Klaus shut the coffin’s top and rolled it into the foyer.  “All the best relationship counselors say that honesty is key you know.”

“Did they say that _before_ or _after_ you ate them?”  Stephanie asked.  She flashed down to the base of the stairs and then stalked after Klaus as he flung open the front door to greet two very familiar vampires. 

“Semantics,” Klaus dismissed airily.  He grinned at the men waiting for him.  “Hello, boys.  Where’s Marcel?”

Stephanie recognized one of them as Thierry and the other as Diego; both of them Marcel’s close and trusted henchmen.  “Klaus?”  Her voice was tight with frustration.  What the hell was going on?

“He’s coming,” Thierry said.  His eyes lit up when they caught sight of the coffin and his fingers curled slightly in anticipation.  “So Elijah’s in here?  You wouldn’t mind if we . . . checked, right?”

“Unfortunately, I do have to agree with my boy here,” Marcel’s voice drawled as he strolled up to the house.  A hearse was parked in the driveway, and Stephanie supposed there was some irony in a vampire driving a one.  “I’ve just got to make sure you’re being straight with me, man.”

“Of course.”  Klaus nodded and waved his hands at Elijah’s coffin.

“Would someone tell me what’s going on here?” Stephanie asked stiffly.  She put her hands onto her hips.  “ _Now_ , preferably.”

“I’m giving Elijah over to Marcel as a gesture of good faith,” Klaus said simply, “so that he knows that we’re _partners_.”  His blue eyes were sharp and intense as they stared into Stephanie’s.  “Don’t worry, love.  It’ll all be worked out soon.”

“You’re crazy,” Stephanie said flatly.  “After everything Elijah has done for you?”  Despite the fact that this was clearly just a technique to help get into Marcel’s good graces quickly and painlessly, Steph was not a fan of this plan.  Klaus gave her significant look.  She glared.  “Why now?  We’ve been here for weeks.”

“Well, I just want to make sure we’re all on the straight and narrow here,” Marcel’s booming voice echoed as he stepped into view.  He lifted open the lid of the coffin and whistled.  “Grey is not your brother’s color.”  Stephanie snuck a peak and had to agree.  Elijah's skin was colorless and his sightless eyes seemed to bore into her own.

Klaus turned back to his friend and shrugged.  “Can’t say I’ve met a vampire that does, mate.”  Marcel chuckled and shut the lid firmly and with a sharp click.  He twirled his fingers and immediately Thierry and Diego hefted Elijah up into their arms and carried him over to the hearse, where they stored his coffin in the back.

“Nice doing business with you, man!” Marcel crowed.  “You want to go out?  I’ve wanted to show you something.”

“Sure.  Stay in the house, love,” Klaus said casually and he strolled off with Marcel.  They hopped into the hearse and the car rumbled to life before taking off down the dusty driveway, sending gravel and dirt into the air.

“Like hell I will,” Stephanie growled and stepped out of the house, slamming the door behind her.  She stalked down the driveway angrily.  Klaus was playing a game to keep up a façade for Marcel, but Stephanie wasn’t feeling particularly cooperative that day.  If Klaus thought that he could keep her there like a fifties housewife, he had another thing coming. 

“Someone’s a little testy,” A familiar voice drawled behind her.  “Apparently the honeymoon phase is over.  Can’t really blame you for being pissy with Klaus; he can get a little overprotective and domineering of the ones he wants to keep to himself.  Trust me.”

Stephanie sighed, but kept walking.  “Kol.”

The Original strolled over to her side and maintained pace with her as they walked with regular human speed out of the drive and toward town.  “Stephanie.”

“You do realize that your brother just shoved both Rebekah and Elijah into coffins within months of each other, right?  If I were you, I might have second thoughts about coming to meet him,” Stephanie said critically.  She side eyed him.  “On second thought . . .” Kol was a pain in the ass ninety percent of the time, meaning it wouldn’t _too_ much of a loss if he was daggered and out of everyone’s hair. 

He smirked.  “Eh,” Kol grunted.  “He daggered Rebekah so she couldn’t cause any trouble and to keep her from feeling the pain of losing someone, and he daggered Elijah so that Marcel couldn’t manipulate Klaus through him.  Me?  Klaus won’t waste the energy unless I start to bug the bloke too much.”  He winked.  “Besides, I have a couple of new tricks now anyway.”  Kol wiggled his fingers and lightning bolts buzzed between them.

“Point,” Stephanie admitted.  She pressed her lips together and debated on whether or not to ask Kol the burning question that had plagued her for the week.  “What’s Marcel and Klaus’ relationship?”  She finally asked.  “I know Klaus turned him, but there’s something more to it than that.  Anyone can see it.”

Kol laughed.  “Blood hell, I forgot there were people who don’t know about their history.”  At Steph’s impatient look, he continued.  “Marcel’s like a son to my brother, believe it or not.”  Stephanie searched his face; Kol seemed entirely truthful, so she nodded.  “I wasn’t there initially, but I’ve heard the story.  They were burying one of the mayor’s sons – he was Rebekah’s lover, of course – and they saw the mayor’s other kid whipping this wee little mite, Marcellus.  He must have been twelve or thirteen.  Klaus made mayor’s kid stop when Marcel showed some backbone and then rescued the kid.  He even named him, too, come to think of it.  He took Marcel in and raised him like he was his son because I guess he saw himself in him.”  Kol rolled his eyes.

“Because of Mikael’s abuse,” Stephanie supplied slowly.

Kol looked surprised but then shook his head.  “Of course he told you.  But yes, essentially.”

“Then the witches’ plan isn’t going to work,” Stephanie said almost to herself.  Her hand hovered over her lower abdomen.  The baby.  Would they terminate the baby when they learned of Marcel and Klaus’ relationship?  Kol caught the motion and the soft spoken words.

But he was mainly focused the on the witches part and he perked up.  “What witches?”

“The witches of the French Quarter are looking to overthrow Marcel,” Stephanie explained.  “They went to a lot of trouble to get us here so that Klaus would do it for them.  Although, apparently it was for nothing.  But why would Klaus give him Elijah then?”

Kol hummed in thought.  “Marcel never was a big fan of Elijah’s, or so Rebekah told me.  But I think it’s more likely my brother has something up his sleeve that he’s keeping to himself.  Do you happen to know where Rebekah’s body is?”

“I have no idea,” Stephanie said honestly and narrowed her eyes in thought.

Kol only hummed again.  “I’ll see you later, Miss Stephanie.  I have havoc to wreak.”  He disappeared as they reached the French Quarter, as if he’d never been there to begin with.  Stephanie sighed.

Then her phone rang again – Damon, this time.  “Hello?”

“How’s New Orleans?” He drawled. 

“Same as it always is,” Stephanie said as she began walking again.  “Busy and full of conniving people.”

“Of course it is.”  He sounded distracted.

“How’s Elena doing?”  Stephanie lowered her voice.  “Has she turned it back on yet?”

“Nope,” Damon said grimly.  “But I have a few more ideas that I’ll try.”

“It’s been a long summer,” Stephanie said quietly.  “Do you think she’ll be able to go to Whitmore when it starts?  Caroline asked.”  She was in the Quarter now, in the thick of the hustle and bustle, making it a little more difficult to talk and listen.  She put a finger to her left ear to block out the excess noise.

“She wants to,” Damon said, surprising Steph.  “Even if it’s only to sample some of the people there in the process, it’s something.  I’m thinking that after New York, it’ll be a good idea to bring her home so she can see some familiar faces.  Maybe being in the area will help her want to remember.”

“Or maybe it’ll remind her of Jeremy and make to draw back even further,” Stephanie pointed out.

“Sh, you’re harshing my juju,” Damon admonished.  “Besides, she’d be at Whitmore with Blondie and Judgy; no Jeremy related things there to freak her out.  Plus, you have to come back eventually, right?  So she’ll have that whole network of support thing you talk about.”

Stephanie quieted at the mention of returning to Virginia.  She didn’t know how she was supposed to go back, let alone even explain her situation.  She wasn’t even able to physically leave New Orleans because of damn Sophie Devereux. 

When she didn’t reply, Damon asked, “Stephanie . . . what’s going on that you’re not telling me about?”

“Nothing,” Stephanie said unconvincingly.  “Really.”

“Stephanie.  You’ve been gone as long as Elena and I have.”

“Nothing for you to worry about,” Steph pushed.  “You need to focus on _Elena_.  I can handle things here.”

“That doesn’t sound good, Steph.”  His voice suddenly took on a teasing tone, “Tell me what trouble you’ve gotten into now and I won’t be mad later.”

She decided to tell him part of the truth.  “The reason I’m in New Orleans is that I’m here to help Klaus with something.  It’s not a big deal, so don’t worry.”

“Steph-”

“Oh, would you look at the time?  Bye, Damon.”  Stephanie hung up and turned her phone off before slipping it back into her purse.  She looked up and found herself at the restaurant – bar that Sophie worked at.  She slipped inside and sat on a barstool, waiting patiently for the bartender to notice her.

“Hi,” The woman greeted her moments later.  She was blonde and personable, with an easy smile and knowledgeable eyes.  “What can I get you?”

“Coke,” Stephanie said forlornly, already missing the taste of alcohol.  The woman, whose nametag read Camille, gave her a smile and disappeared behind the soda fountain machine.  Stephanie tapped her fingers on the bar and turned to look at its other patrons.  It was just her luck that that was the bar that Marcel had taken Klaus; they were seated at a small table by the window overlooking the sidewalk.  Steph rolled her and turned back around in time for Camille to return with her drink.  “Thanks.”  She gave bartender the required payment and began to sip her coke.

“Something the matter?”  Camille asked.  Her large eyes looked down at the vampire, concerned.  Stephanie shrugged.  Camille leaned forward almost conspiratorially.  “I’m a psychologist too, if it helps; or studying to be one, anyway.”  Steph gave her a wry glance, to which the other women just shrugged sheepishly.  “Yeah, I know; a bartender who’s a therapist.  It’s probably one of the worst clichés.”

Stephanie smiled.  “Well, I have this sort-of boyfriend who I’ve known for a long time and we recently kind of got back together.  Only now he’s in some trouble and I’ve got to help him out, but things just got really complicated . . .”

“Mommy issues?”  Camille suggested.

“Daddy issues,” Steph corrected and waved a hand, “but that’s not the problem here.  More like there are people conspiring against him?”  She pursed her lips.

Camille furrowed her brows.  “You know, a man came in here a while ago and said that his brother thought people were conspiring against _him_ . . .”

“Tall, dark and wearing a suit?”  Steph tilted her head.

“How’d you know?”  But Camille’s face said everything.

“He’s my kind-of boyfriend’s older brother,” Stephanie sighed and drank some more soda.  “He . . . left for a while.”

“Hm.  Didn’t seem the type to run,” Camille mused and Stephanie grimaced.

“It wasn’t voluntary,” Stephanie said darkly and stirred the ice in her coke with her straw.  “And his other brother just came into town too.  Younger, this time.”

“Does he also have a hero complex too?”

Stephanie made an unimpressed face and shook her head.  “He’s a dick.” 

Camille laughed before looking at the clock.  “Well, I’m clocking out.  It was nice meeting you . . .”

“Stephanie.”

“Stephanie.”  Camille smiled and untied her apron.  “I’m Cami.”  She stooped down and grabbed a bag and a handful of books.  Across the room, Marcel and Klaus rose as one, making Steph still in her barstool.  As Cami prepared to leave, Marcel and Klaus intercepted her.  Stephanie moved to the human’s side to provide a little protection.

“Hello, love,” Klaus said and smiled at Camille.  The bartender tilted her head.  “What’s that you’re studying?”  He pointed at the books she was holding.

“Klaus . . .” Stephanie warned.  Her fingers twitched.

“Abnormal psychology,” Camille answered warily.

“Well, why don’t you diagnose my friend over here . . . he’s been kind of depressed, see.”  Klaus tugged Camille over to Marcel, where the other vampire stood at the bar.  “He’s been thinking a lot about this girl. He tells me she’s a queen, fit for a king.  I think he should cut his losses and move on.  What’s your _professional_ opinion?”

Camille gave them both unimpressed looks, but Stephanie saw the moment when she decided to humor them.  “I think he should try to be nice.  And polite.  And maybe the opportunity will present itself one day.”

Marcel nearly jumped off the bar in his enthusiasm.  “How about tonight?  I’ll meet you right here, 9 o’clock.”

“I’ll take it under consideration,” Camille allowed and Stephanie grinned.  “Goodbye, Stephanie.  Maybe I’ll see you later, and good luck with your _problem_.”  She gave Klaus a significant look and disappeared out the glass door.

“A little harsh,” Marcel said with a smile as he watched her leave.

“Or maybe you’ve just lost your touch,” Klaus teased lightly and Marcel mock glared.  Then the vampire turned to Steph and gave her an assessing look.

Finally, he said, “Well, she doesn’t look pregnant, but there’s this peculiar smell in the air that’s just a little too sweet . . .” Marcel trailed off.

“Really?”  Stephanie looked at Klaus.   

“I had to tell him,” Klaus excused, eyes wide.  “He’s my partner.  We share things.”

“Well maybe he’ll let you share the bed tonight because you won’t be with me,” Stephanie said lightly.  Marcel cackled.  Stephanie turned away and strode to the door, hoping to maybe catch up with Camille.  She paused and called back, “Oh, and by the way, Klaus.  Kol’s here for a visit; thought you might want to know.”

She followed Cami down the street, pausing only when she got a text from Klaus.  I HAVE A PLAN.  COMPEL CAMILLE TO GIVE MARCEL A CHANCE.  I’LL EXPLAIN LATER, PROMISE.

WHY?  She demanded.

BECAUSE THIS IS TAKING TOO LONG, SO I NEED A COUPLE OF SPIES ON MARCEL. 

I’M STILL PISSED AT YOU.

I HAVE TO GET MARCEL’S TRUST.  THAT’S ALL.  PLEASE.

Stephanie shoved her phone into her pocket furiously, but called out to Cami.  “Hey, Camille!  Wait up!”  She was going to regret this.  “Want to get lunch?”

.

.

.

Kol wandered.  He hadn’t been in New Orleans for a while, the last time being when his family had been run out shortly after the bar fight he’d gotten into with Damon Salvatore.  It had changed, and quite a bit at that.  The werewolves seemed to completely gone and the witches were scattered and beneath Marcel’s thumb.  The vampires seemed to all work for the ‘king.’

Well, the ones that hadn’t got in his way still worked for their king.  The ones that had were now ash and dust in the wind.

Kol wanted to find Elijah and release him from his prison for a few answers that he knew Klaus would be cagey about, like why the hell they were in New Orleans anyway and what was going on with the witches.  Also, little as Kol wanted to admit it, Elijah was a useful for planning things out and was a good balance for both Kol and Klaus’ impulsivity and as Klaus had called it at the beginning of the summer, Kol’s _special brand of psychosis_.  Later, when he had freed Elijah, Kol would worry about Rebekah, because things just weren’t nearly as fun without her there to irritate.

He’d had some fun during the summer, trying to get Bonnie Bennett out of his head and he reluctantly admitted _his heart_.  Unfortunately, Kol had discovered that was easier said than done, so he’d made the trip to New Orleans at last to find out what Klaus wanted.  His curiosity had been killing him.

Kol searched by scent for his daggered siblings, but it appeared that they had just disappeared off the face of the earth, which suggested magical interference and therefore, a challenge.  And if there was one thing that Kol liked, it was a challenge.  He went back to the Mikaelson property that Klaus and Stephanie were staying at and found some of Elijah’s things to help him scry for his brother.

Then he had to go into town and purchase a new crystal.  Scrying was a bit like using a locator spell, but the latter needed blood to track someone, _live_ blood.  Which the vampire family decidedly did _not_ have.  So scrying it was.  The magic shops mostly looked like fakes, but Kol found a few distinguishing characteristics after wandering for a bit that would help him differentiate between what was real and what was just selling little baubles for the tourists.  Eventually, he found one.

“Hello, there.  I seem to be in need of a crystal.  Have any of those in here?”  Kol called as he stepped inside.  A young witch stood behind the counter.  She looked up with large, expression eyes.

“Sure,” She chirped.  “We have a few.  Are you getting something for your girlfriend back home?”

“I’m actually going to be using it scry for my lost brother,” Kol explained.  He smirked.  “So, about the crystal?”

The girl blinked and then beamed.  “You’re a witch?  Like, a real one?  You’re obviously not one of the French Quarter ones . . . sorry, rude.  I’m Katie!”

“Nice to meet you.  Crystal, please?”  He did not want to get into it with another small town witch.  The thought of Bonnie and Expression still made him cringe.

Katie’s smile wavered only a little.  “Definitely, sorry.  Hold on one second.”  She held up one finger and then disappeared into a back room.  Kol browsed the front of the magic shop a bit, curiously sticking his nose into shelves and books.  He’d missed magic.  And there sure as hell hadn’t been things like this when he could actually connect to it before, so he was going to take advantage.

“Here we go!”  Katie returned.  She handed him the small crystal that was already intricately tied to thin, but hardy rope.  Perfect for swinging over a map of NOLA.  She gave him the price, which he paid easily.  “Thanks for visiting!  I hope you return with your future magic needs.”

Kol had to smile at her naivety, but said nothing more to the young witch as he left the store.  He made the trip back to the Mikaelson mansion and quickly ransacked the house, looking for a map of the French Quarter.

Then he set to work.

.

.

.

“You take me to the nicest places,” Klaus said dryly.  He followed Marcel down the ramp of the parking garage despite his disinclinations and was surprised to find a large van and a couple of Marcel’s men waiting beside it. 

“How was the catch?” Marcel called.  When they got closer, Thierry and Diego opened the bag of the van to reveal two young people sitting up, terrified, in black body bags. 

“Not very good.”  Thierry leaned against the van’s open door.  “They’re not much.”

“Well, they’ll have to do, considering I just lost six nightwalkers.”  Marcel’s eyes slid to Klaus.  The hybrid shrugged.

“I admit that it was probably Kol, considering what Stephanie told me this morning.” Klaus said.  “But since I haven’t seen my only little brother, I’ll have to wait to reprimand his actions.”  Diego growled under his breath, but Klaus only shot him a conceited smirk.

“Well, I hope I don’t need to remind you that you’re a guest here, buddy, and that I don’t have time for Mikaelson family drama.  Keep your brother on a leash.”

“You’d have more luck draining the Mississippi with a straw,” Klaus said darkly.  He then stood back, intrigued, as Diego opened the van’s back door to reveal two young people, a girl and a boy.  Marcel began to spin a rose colored spiel about vampire life and the French Quarter.

“What do you think, buddy?”  Marcel put a hand to Klaus’ shoulder and pulled him in closer.  “Cute girl or dorky, gay best friend?”

“I say you do dealer’s choice,” Klaus suggested lightly.  Marcel beamed and clapped him on the back.  He rushed forward and pulled out a pretty gold coin and showed it to the two transitioning vampires. 

“This this coin?  I’m going to drop it in about three seconds.  Whoever picks it up lives forever, and the other . . . well, _dies_ , but for good this time.  So, who’ll it be?”  Marcel flipped the coin and it fell to the floor of the van.  The blonde girl and her olive toned friend looked at each other with wide, scared eyes, before the girl dove toward the coin just a split second later.

“Damn!” Marcel laughed.  “ _Damn_.”

“How could you?”  The teenage boy demanded of the blonde.  He looked at her with wide, betrayed eyes.

She only curled her lip in contempt.  “Get over it, Josh.  It’s not like I had a choice – you would have done the same thing!”

Josh’s mouth opened to argue, but Marcel flashed into the back of the vehicle before he got the chance.  His strong arms darted out and snapped the pretty little blonde’s neck and she fell backwards onto the carpet.  He zipped her up.

“Let her die in cold storage,” Marcel told Thierry and Diego sharply.  Then he turned to Josh, but Klaus saw the look his protégée shot him beforehand.  “I’ve got a thing about people who betray their friends.  Come on, let’s go for a ride.”  Thierry and Diego stepped forward and lugged the full body bag out of the car and over their shoulders, while Marcel pushed Josh farther into the van before shutting the door.

“I’m driving,” Marcel said to Klaus with a smile.  “But you can have shotgun.”

“How kind of you,” Klaus said dryly.  He slipped into the passenger side and let Marcel drive them out of the parking garage and up into the daylight once more.  Outside, the streets were streaming with people and drum lines, a constant river of partying.  He wondered if Stephanie was out and about with them – she was probably still pissed, Klaus knew, but it was all a part of the game.  If Steph had to stay in New Orleans because of some spell, it would be best that Marcel didn’t grasp the depth of Klaus’ feelings for her.  Or else she would become one of the witches’ pawns, but one of Marcel’s, as well.  Klaus just had to explain that.

There was also the problem of Kol.  If he was killing random night walkers, he didn’t care about Marcel’s rule, but that really actually endeared him a little more to Klaus.  Maybe he could get him to remove the spell on Stephanie, and then she could escape if she had to and wouldn’t be part of the witches’ big game of chess . . . Klaus would take care of Marcel either way, but he preferred it if his Ripper didn’t get hurt.  Or the baby.

Marcel parked a few feet away from the entrance of the parking garage and stepped away to make a phone call.  Klaus brought Josh from the van to a big black Jeep Grand Cherokee and shoved him inside before the mite got the chance to burn in the sunlight.  A sudden thought struck him.  He sat in the back seat with the vampire in transition and turned to face him.

The kid, Josh, looked at him with inquisitive eyes.  “Um, hey?”

Klaus had to compel him before Marcel got the brat onto vervain.  “ _Listen, kid.  I have something I need you to do for me_.”

.

.

.

 “A church? Really?”  Kol furrowed his brows as he stared up at the building he’d marked down on his map.  _“Really?”_

He stepped through the overarching doorway and slowly made his way down the middle aisle between the pews.  It was an older church and its architecture was something that Klaus would appreciate, Kol noticed.  He began to search the entire building, top to bottom to find his big brother.

When he was about to blow something up in frustration in one of the linen closets, he heard a creak above him.  Kol’s head shot upwards.  Stairs.  He flashed out of the small storage space and located some old, creaky wooden steps and practically flew up them.  At the top was a door with light peeking between the cracks.

Kol pushed it open.

Inside revealed a room decorated almost exactly how Kol would imagine a teenage girl’s to be, and there was art and sketches littered throughout and strung up on the walls and the ceiling.  To his left and at the end of the room was a dark headed girl facing her mirror.  To his right was Elijah’s coffin.

The girl stood up slowly and turned around.  Kol thought she couldn’t be older than seventeen, at the most.  “Who are you?”  Her voice was level and unafraid.  Curious.  He tried to step over the threshold, but there was an invisible force holding him back.

“Kol Mikaelson.”  He gave her a bright smile.  “And I’d like to come in.”

“We all want things,” The girl said.  “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for that, actually.”  Kol pointed at Elijah’s coffin.  “So, if you don’t mind, I’ll take him and be on my merry way . . .”

“No,” The girl snapped and the room shook.  Kol’s brows surged upwards.

“You’re a _witch_?”  He was delighted.

The girl folded her arms.  “My _name_ is Davina.  And yes, I’m a witch and you’re an Old One.”

“But I am handsome.”  Kol smirked and leaned on the door hinge.  His spiky hair flattened a little when he rested his head on the wood paneling. 

Davina sniffed.  “Hm.  If you’re an Old One, that means you’re related to _him_.”  She jerked her head toward Elijah.

Kol hummed.  “That’s right, darling.  So tell me, what’s with the witches in the French Quarter?  How does Marcel control them?  Does he know about you?”  He could feel the magic humming through her veins, buzzing just beneath the surface of her skin and it made Kol’s dead heart beat a little faster to feel all that power. 

Davina smiled.  “Maybe.  Does he know about _you_?”

Kol shrugged.  “Probably.  I did kill some of his nightwalkers.  Pesky fellows, those vampires were.”  Davina frowned at him.

“You shouldn’t upset Marcel,” She scolded.

“Why not?”  Kol scoffed.  “He can’t hurt me, darling.  You said it yourself, I’m an _Old One_.  I can’t be killed.”

“But I can.  Hurt you, that is.”  Davina raised her hand and Kol felt an invisible pressure tighten around his throat and lift him up off of his feet.  He licked his lips and tried to think of some kind of counter spell, but she hadn’t spoken aloud.  He didn’t know what kind of enchantment she was using.

She uncurled her fingers and he dropped to the floor.  Her gaze lifted to some point above his head.  “There you are,” Davina greeted.  “We have a visitor.”

“I can see that,” Marcel’s voice came from behind him.  “What’s he doing here?”

“He wants Elijah.”

“Well, that’s a problem, isn’t it?”  Marcel stepped to the left.  “Could you make him a little compliant for me?  I need to get him out of here.”

“Of course.”  Davina raised her hand again and then everything went dark.

.

.

.

“I’d like to know why you just had me compel Cami to spy on Marcel.”

“Because it’s part of my diabolical plan.”

“Now you sound like Damon.”

“Can’t have that, now can we, love?”  Stephanie and Klaus’ bickering petered off when they found Kol lounging in the living with a bottle of Jack in hand.  His dark eyes lit up when they caught sight of the couple, and he grinned.

“Hello there, darlings.  Guess where I’ve been?”

“Where?”  Stephanie sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I’ve no clue,” Kol said cheerfully and topped off the glass tumbler on the coffee table.  Klaus and Stephanie exchanged intrigued glances with each other before coming farther into the room and settling on the couch across from Kol.  “But I can get back there.”

“What happened, then?”  Klaus asked, long suffering.

“I found Elijah; he’s being guarded by a very pretty witch.”  Kol sipped his drink before meeting Klaus’ surprised eyes.  “She’s extremely powerful.”

“Marcel has a witch that doesn’t want to kill him?”  Stephanie asked, intrigued.

Kol hummed.  “She’s young – a teenager, but so, so powerful.”

“As you’ve said.”  Klaus narrowed his eyes.  “Why were you hunting down Elijah?”

“Because we need the bloody wanker,” Kol said dryly.  “I don’t know what you’re up to, but if you hadn’t noticed, neither of our,” he gestured between him and his older brother, “plans ever work, loathe am I to admit it.  The girl, Davina, wiped the place of where she and Elijah were of my memory but I can find her again by doing what I did the first time: scry for Elijah.  Now, Marcel told me that everything in this place is his, including Elijah, until he feels like giving it back.  Which, might I add, he didn’t sound particularly inclined to do.   So I wouldn’t suggest giving up Rebekah, or else we’ll never get any of it back, brother.”

“Bloody hell,” Klaus snapped and glowered at floor.   “A witch?”

“Not just any witch, Niklaus.  She’s something I’ve never seen before.  Her power?  It rivals the black Expression that diluted Bonnie Bennett’s veins for weeks.  Who knows what she can do to Elijah?”

“So, in other words, Klaus screwed up,” Stephanie deadpanned.  She side-eyed Klaus, who cursed.

“You gave our brother to the most powerful being in New Orleans.  Good going.”  Kol took another drink.

“She must be Marcel’s secret weapon,” Klaus muttered.  He stood abruptly and punched the wall, breaking a fist sized hole into it.  “Damn it!”  He roared.  “How could I have been so stupid?!”  He’d been trying to gain Marcel’s trust quickly since he was getting impatient, but had inadvertently put his brother into very, very dangerous hands in the process.  Damn it.

“Klaus,” Stephanie interrupted suddenly, drawing the attention of the two Originals.  “What do you have against Marcel anyway?  Kol said you were like family.  What happened?”

Klaus pressed his lips together in a fine line.  He rubbed his fist as he turned away from the hole he’d made.  “I gave him everything, and when Mikael chased me and my family out of New Orleans a hundred years ago, we’d thought he’d died.  So we mourned him.  But when I returned with you, I learned that he’d stayed and not only survived, he’d _thrived_.  Instead of seeking us out, instead of sticking together as one, he made a choice to take everything my family had built and made it his.  Now, he’s living in our home, he’s sleeping in our beds . . . that ‘M’ he stamps everywhere in town, it’s not for _Marcel_ , it’s for _Mikaelson_.  I want it all back and if I have to push him out to get it, that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Stephanie sat back on the couch and waited for Klaus to cool off, while Kol folded his legs together.

“So, what’s the plan?”

Klaus pointed down at Kol.  “We track down Elijah again and wake him up.  Then we hurry the witches along.  Cami and Josh hopefully prove to be useful spies.  Then, we wait.”

Well, Stephanie mused tiredly, her life was never boring anymore.

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.

.

Davina heard the telltale creak of heavy booted feet on the wood floor of her loft and instinctively knew it was Marcel coming to call.  She didn’t lose her focus though, and her hand continued its rapid movements across the easel with a stick of charcoal held loosely in her fingers.  Davina had to get the pictures in her head onto paper before she lost it.  She didn’t stop until Marcel laid a hand lightly across her shoulder.

She turned.

“Sorry about that unpleasantness with Kol.”  Marcel looked at her big, regret filled eyes.

“He doesn’t scare me,” Davina told him flatly.  “None of them do.”

“I didn’t think they would, honey.  But it looks like they’re here to stay.”  Marcel’s lips turned down into an upset frown and he rubbed her shoulders.

Davina’s nostrils flared.  “They don’t belong here!”

“It might be kind of tough to convince them that, which is why I need to ask you a favor.”  Marcel’s intent gaze slid over to the Old One’s coffin and then back to her.  “I’m gonna need you to figure out how to kill an Original.”

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tbc.


	2. a little party never killed nobody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well you are my accuser, now look in my face  
> your oppression reeks of your greed and disgrace  
> so one man has and another has not  
> how can you love what it is you have got.”

“Marcel refuses to return to Elijah.”

“Did you expect any different?”  Stephanie asked critically, but otherwise didn’t react to Klaus.  She stepped forward and put a hand to Josh’s wrist, stilling him.  “No, Josh, making small incisions will prolong the pain.  We want to do this efficiently so it will hurt him less.” 

“Sorry.”  Josh shrugged and sent her an apologetic look.  “I’m not very versed in this medieval torture stuff yet.”  He offered her the dagger, which she took and exchanged for a sharp metal pole. 

“Here.”  She gave it to Josh before Klaus could decide to make the whole thing into an ordeal.  They were in the basement of some industrial building, far away from prying eyes and ears. 

“Why are we doing this?”  Josh asked.  He winced as she shoved the metal piece through the hanging vampire’s gut.  The vampire cried out and his body jerked forward in his restraints.  “If we’re not trying to torture him, I mean.”  Blood began to seep from the wound and the smell cloyed in the air and clogging Stephanie’s nose.

“We’re trying to drain all of the vervain out of his system so Klaus can compel him,” Stephanie explained tightly.  “Vervain blocks compulsion.  I’m sorry, by the way, about the compulsion.  I’ve been compelled before . . . it’s not especially pleasant.”  She shot Klaus a sharp look and the hybrid whistled innocently.

Josh shrugged.  “Eh.  I’m okay, but then again, I guess that’s the mind control talking?”

“Alright, ladies,” Klaus interrupted abruptly, clearly tired of conversation.  “Have you heard from Kol?”  This, he directed at Stephanie.

“He went to see Sophie Devereux so he can get a read on her magic.  He’s going to try and disentangle her life force from the baby’s.”  Stephanie rubbed her abdomen and looked away when Josh stabbed the strung up vampire again.  The sight of it made her nauseous. 

“You know,” Josh interrupted.  “I don’t really get this compulsion thing.  Vampires can compel humans, you said, but regular vampires can’t compel regular vampires?  And who’s Kol again?”

“Originals can compel regular vampires,” Klaus confirmed with a head of his head.  “No one can compel Originals, including other Originals.”

“And Kol is another Original vampire,” Stephanie replied.

“He has magic,” Klaus added.  “But that doesn’t leave this room.  It’s a secret.”  He put his pointer finger to his lips on top of a smile.

Josh shrugged.  “Whatever, man.”   Then he took out the metal pole and plunged it into the other nightwalker’s gut again, making blood and guts spill out.  A wave of nausea nearly knocked Stephanie over and she clapped a hand to her mouth.  She flashed out of the parking garage and into the open air before kneeling down and vomiting up a fountain of blood into the grass.

“That doesn’t look good,” A masculine voice came from somewhere above her head.  She had fallen onto her hands and knees while she vomited and prepared to rise, but another wave of nausea rolled over her.  Steph was sent back down and coughed, expelling more blood from her quickly emptying stomach.  She turned her head to the side and breathed through her mouth for a moment to try and get taste of old blood out of her system.

A tanned hand appeared at eye level, which Stephanie warily took.  Strong arms pulled her up and settled her back onto her unsteady feet.  She used the back of her hand to wipe the blood off of her mouth before looking at her helper’s face.  It was Thierry, standing there with his hands in his pockets and in one of his cute little caps, tilted at an angle on his head.

“Vampires don’t usually throw up,” He said casually before discreetly eyeing the congealed blood on the grass.  “And they don’t get sick.”

“Drank some bad vervain,” Stephanie said and she crossed her arms beneath her breasts.  “It must have been molded.”

“Must have been,” Thierry said slowly, “either that or you’re lying to me.”

“Now, why would I do that?”  Steph lifted her chin in an attempt to become eye level with the taller vampire. 

“You’re protecting your psychotic boyfriend,” Thierry suggested.  “From what, I’m not sure, but I’m fairly certain I can find out.”

“To do what, tell Marcel?”  Stephanie asked.  “He already knows.”

“He would have told his inner circle.”  Thierry glowered.  He would have told _me_ , remained unsaid but it still sat uncomfortably in the air around them.

“It’s not a big deal, Thierry, so I’d suggest going back Marcel before he starts wondering where you are,” Stephanie said lightly.  Thierry narrowed his eyes and turned to grudgingly oblige, but heard a scream emerge down below from the parking garage.

“What’s that?”  He demanded sharply.  “What’s going on down there?”

“Nothing that concerns you.”  Klaus was an idiot for draining someone of vervain in a mildly public place; he’d have been better off doing it at the mansion.  She fought the urge to glance backward and give anything away.

“I think it concerns Marcel.”  Thierry shouldered passed her but Stephanie’s hand shot out and grabbed him by the bicep.  He tugged forward but she had him in an iron grip.  He shot her a surprised and slightly infuriated look.

Stephanie’s words echoed something Lexi had once said.  “I’m older than you and that means stronger.”

“You were also throwing your guts up five minutes ago,” Thierry sneered and in one quick motion, shot a hand out to her abdomen and pushed her backward.  He flashed away while Stephanie’s nausea returned full force, knocking her to her knees.  Thierry hadn’t used enough pressure to damage the baby, Stephanie thought – hoped – but blood was coming back up her esophagus.  She retched. 

“Damn it,” She cursed through bloodied lips.  Steph got to her feet in time to watch Klaus striding toward her with a glazed, murderous glint in his eyes.

He shot a glance at Stephanie and his brows shot up.  “What happened?”  He strode to her side in a second, hand on her shoulder and the other on her hip.  Klaus’ eyes narrowed.  “Did Thierry do this to you?”

Stephanie waved a dismissive hand.  “I threw up, it’s fine.”

“That’s not normal,” Klaus snapped.

“It is if you’re pregnant,” Stephanie whispered tightly and the hybrid immediately drew back a little.

“Oh.  Right.”  It was slightly amusing to see one of the most powerful creatures on earth to be squirming uncomfortably.  “Well.  Are you okay?”

“Still nauseous,” Stephanie admitted.

Klaus pursed his lips.  “Anything I . . . can do?”

“Not really.”

“Well then.  I have to find out Thierry’s weaknesses while he’s . . . occupied.”

“Where is he?”  Stephanie looked down at the parking garage entrance and then back at Klaus’ blue eyes.

“I may have snapped his neck,” He said casually.

“Isn’t Marcel going to get suspicious while he’s gone?”  Stephanie asked dryly.  “Thierry is kind of a _little_ important to him.”

Klaus threw up his arms.  “What was I supposed to do?  Let him run and tattle to Marcel?  At least now this gives me some time to figure out a plan.”

“Something going on?”  Klaus and Stephanie’s heads jerked simultaneously to look at the newest arrival.  Kol.  “I talked to Miss Devereux about forgetting to tell us about Davina.  She doesn’t know where they’re keeping the little witch, and it seems to me that this is the primary reason for their little war on Marcel; she apparently can track all the magic that is performed in the French Quarter.  Obviously, they want her back.”  He crossed his arms.  “This also puts a kink in our plans to rescue Elijah.  If she can track me scrying for him, she’ll sense it and be prepared for someone to come and get him.”

Stephanie furrowed her brows.  “Then we just need a smokescreen.  Get someone else to perform a stronger spell to distract Davina while you scry for Elijah.”

Kol and Klaus exchanged glances.  “Do we get Sophie to do it?”

Klaus hummed.  “Maybe.”

“Did you find anything out about the binding spell?”  Stephanie asked Kol.  She wanted to know before they got any further into this.

Kol wiggled his fingers.  “Yes.  I can identify Sophie’s magic and there’s a spell in Mum’s grimoire that can remove the link between you two.  Lucky for us I brought it with me from Mystic Falls.”

Klaus narrowed his eyes.  “Where did you get her grimoire?”

“Elijah.  You know, before _you_ gave him away.”  Kol eyed Klaus.  “While we’re having this chat, I thought it might be a good idea to toss around the idea of letting Rebekah out.  A show of force and all – three Originals are better than two.”  He crossed his arms and Stephanie too looked at Klaus, waiting.

“No,” Klaus said sharply.  He made a sharp, jerky hand motion.  “We don’t know what she’ll do at this point.  It’s best if we let things settle first before we open _that_ can of worms.  Now, I’ve got to go and plan Thierry’s downfall.  Josh is draining one vampire of vervain and keeping an eye on Thierry in the garage.  I’ll figure out our witchy distraction while I’m out.”  He flashed away quickly, determined.

“Guess it’s just you and me, darling.”  Kol smirked.  “Let’s get started then while we watch Klaus’ friends in the garage, shall we?”

Stephanie pinched the bridge of her nose and fought the urge to vomit again as she followed the Original down into the dark.  “Let’s make this quick, please.  Klaus is about to do something idiotic and I should probably be there to stop him.”

“No promises.”

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.

.

“So, this is college?”  Elena eyed the building with clear distaste.  “What was I thinking when I applied _here_?”

“That you wanted to be close to Jeremy,” Caroline said in a diminutive voice.  “Sorry.”  She tried to perk back up and she rushed to say, “But I’m sure we’ll love it!  It’s the three of us against the world!”

“Right.  One witch with zero powers, a perky cheerleader, and a reforming serial killer are going to college together.”  Bonnie sent Caroline and Elena a dry look.  “Sounds like a blast to me.”

“I’m not reforming,” Elena sniffed.

“Moving on!”  Caroline jumped between the witch and the other vampire before it came to blows.  “Let’s get our stuff up into our dorm room!”

“Mini-fridge, coming through,” A voice hollered behind them and the girls turned to look at a smirking Damon strolling toward them with a boxed up refrigerator.  “Ladies.”

“Damon.”  Elena rolled her eyes.  “I don’t need a babysitter; you gave me the two sheriffs of the fun police.”  She jerked her thumbs at Bonnie and Caroline.  “They’re here to make sure I don’t kill anyone and try to persuade me to ‘turn it back on.’”  She scoffed.

Caroline and Bonnie exchanged tight smiles.

“You’re also going to drink cheap beer and protest about things you don’t really care about,” Damon said pointedly.  “Because you’re going to have to the typical, human college experience that you wanted.”

“What boring, humanity-me wanted,” Elena pointed out.  “ _I_ just want to have some fun.”

“Too bad.”  Damon grinned.  “So, where’s the dorm?”  The girls turned around and carried their baskets of things to stick in their room with Damon trailing behind them.  Liz came up beside Damon, helping Caroline with her things, and Rudy parked the car somewhere in the lot.

“This had better be the last box,” Liz whispered to Damon behind the girls’ backs. 

Damon smirked.  “You wish.”

Elena, Caroline and Bonnie’s room was located on the third floor of the women’s dormitory, and the three vampires, one witch and one mom made several trips back and forth until all their things were sitting around their dorm on the floor, on beds and in the closet.

“Done,” Liz breathed and turned to Caroline.  The bouncy blonde vampire dove for her mother’s arms and wrapped her into a tight goodbye hug, while Bonnie stepped outside to talk to her father one last time before he left.  Damon pulled Elena aside.

“Call me if you have any issues,” He warned.  “You can’t kill random students without some kind of blowback here, okay?”

“You’re such a worrywart.”  Elena sighed, put upon.

“This place could be dangerous.”  Damon glared.  “This is serious, Elena.”

“This is college,” Elena corrected.  “I’m here to ‘drink cheap beer and protest stuff I don’t really care about.’”

“And not kill the locals,” Damon persisted and then rolled his eyes.  “God, I sound like Stephanie right now.”

“Then go find her and apologize for mocking her.  Bye, Damon,” Elena said pointedly. 

“What, no kiss?”  Damon asked mockingly.  He’d had to shove many of his feelings down for Elena all summer and at least try and pretend he wasn’t so madly in love with her, because to Elena – or at least _this_ Elena – their relationship was physical only, with no strings attached.  He had to guard his heart or else this humanity-less spree was going to kill him.

She darted in and kissed him teasingly, lingering long to get Damon interested, before she pulled back abruptly.  She waved with her fingers and he forced himself to detach.  Damon walked out with Liz and tried to think about other things than the fact that his girlfriend was kind of a bitch at that moment and needed around-the-clock babysitters to keep her from murdering innocents.

Like, why the hell was his baby sister hanging out in New Orleans, helping Klaus?

He passed a short young woman on his way out of the dormitories, whom was carrying several bags in her arms.  He paid her no more attention than that and she was already out his mind by the time he got to his car in the lot.

.

.

.

By the time Klaus returned to their temporary place in the parking garage, Josh had finished bloodletting the other nightwalker and had probably snapped Thierry’s neck four times.  The grimoire was sitting in Kol’s lap as he looked at it intently between quietly chanting a spell that sounded lyrical in the air.  Stephanie sat across from him, hands in her lap and eyes closed.

She glanced up when she heard Klaus.

“The plan’s been orchestrated,” He announced.  “Josh, is he ready?”

“Yep.”  Josh nodded and gave his bloody hands a disturbing, disgusted glance.  He discreetly patted them on his jeans, hoping to get the dark substance off.  Kol’s chanting grew a little louder and Stephanie felt something twist in her stomach.

“Brilliant.”  Klaus ripped the chains off of the nightwalker’s wrists and ankles.  The vampire fell to the ground.  Steph stopped paying attention then, too preoccupied with the wriggling sensation in her abdomen.  She pushed her hands into her stomach to lessen the feeling, but all that served to do was make her queasy again.  Kol’s chanting stopped and the loud boom of him closing the grimoire echoed through the underground parking garage.

“Is that it?”  Stephanie asked quickly.  She got to her feet and resisted the urge to stagger when the world tilted on its axis.

“I’d say so.”  Kol stood as well.  “You’re _free_.”  His sardonic lilt on the word suggested that he knew that she was only theoretically welcome to leave.   

“Good.”  Klaus’ voice boomed.  Stephanie turned her head to see the nightwalker standing perfectly still and slightly blank faced – already compelled.  Thierry was strung up, conscious, in the place where the nightwalker had just been.  “I’ve got another minion to do my bidding.  After I drain Thierry here of all of the vervain in his system, we’ll be implementing the first part of our plan to rescue Elijah.  It’s multifaceted, just in case.”

“It’ll never work,” Thierry’s voice spat behind them.  “Marcel’s smarter than that, Klaus.  He doesn’t trust you.”

“You’re right.”  Klaus grinned.  “But he trusts _you_.  And do you know what I found out today?  You’ve got a little romance with one of the witches in the Quarter.  I think she’ll do fine for our smokescreen.”

Thierry’s bloodless face somehow became several shades whiter.  “What?”

“Katie, is it?”  Klaus mused.  He walked leisurely over to the hanging vampire, taking his time and letting Thierry know he didn’t have a care in the world for his girl.  “She’s so young, so . . . _naïve_.” 

“Don’t you touch her,” Thierry snapped.  He shook his fists in a vain attempt to free himself, but all it served to do was rattle the chains.

“I won’t lay a finger on her.”  Klaus promised.  “But him?”  He pointed at the nightwalker standing unnaturally still.  His eyes seemed to be glazed over, dead looking.  It made Stephanie clench her fists; she’d helped get him to that state.  It was too late to feel guilty about now.  “He has no problems with roughing up the witch a bit, especially since she’ll be performing a spell to take down Marcel.  You’ll swoop in to save the day and kill the nightwalker.  Then I’ll have to protect Marcel from Katie.  He’ll be so _grateful_ that he’ll return Elijah to me.  If not, Kol will have located him again anyway.  It’s a win-win, situation, you see.”

Thierry’s body trembled, his eyes an inferno of blind rage.  He roared in anger, “Leave her _alone_!”

“Klaus.”  Stephanie agreed with Thierry.  “You can’t kill an innocent for this.  This witch wasn’t involved until you made her that way.  We’ll just get Sophie to do a bigger spell and distract Davina.  We can think of another back up plan.”

Klaus made eye contact and placed his hands onto her shoulders gently, but firmly.  “This is a war, love,” his voice was cold, at odds with his heated demeanor, “and you can’t win a war with no strategic losses, no matter how regrettable they might be.”  His fingers uncurled from her shoulders and Klaus deliberately turned away.  Stephanie’s nostrils flared in anger.  Klaus paid the rest of them no mind as he strode forward and jabbed Thierry with a long piece of sharp metal.  “I need to make this quick so we can get this done tonight.”

It was a clear dismissal.

Stephanie stiffly strode out of the parking garage, already formulating ways to keep Katie out of harm’s way.

.

.

.

“We have a fourth roommate?”  Caroline raged.  “How did this _happen_?”  She put her hands on her hips and paced.  The girl who’d introduced herself as Megan King and their roommate had disappeared to get a few more of her things she’d left in the car several minutes ago, leaving the remaining three girls to sort themselves out.

“There could have been a mistake at the housing office,” Bonnie suggested.  “But there are four beds, Care.  It’s not that much of a shock that they’d put someone in here to fill it.”

“But Steph was supposed to come with us,” Caroline moaned and flopped onto her own bed.  Her voice came out muffled as she spoke into her pillow.  “That was going to be _hers_.”  She grunted loudly to make her point.

“Stephanie’s in New Orleans gallivanting with Klaus,” Elena pointed out unhelpfully.  She looked a little amused.  “I doubt she’s coming back anytime soon.  But if we really want to get rid of Megan King, I’ll compel her.  Or kill her.”

Caroline sprang back up, other worries seemingly forgotten in the face of Elena’s yearning to murder someone they’d just met.  “No!  No killing allowed!  Especially not roommates – that’s suspicious and it’ll draw attention to us!”

“Completely unwanted and unnecessary attention,” Bonnie added helpfully.  She shot Elena a firm look.  “We don’t want that and we don’t want innocents hurt.”

Elena rolled her eyes.  “Okay.  Fine.  But I can compel her?”

“I thought we wanted to have a regular, no-supernatural college experience?”  Caroline asked.  Compulsion kind of defeats the purpose of that, right?”  She bit her lip.  She really wanted to keep with that and have as normal of an education as possible, but to have some unknown human roommate . . . it might be worth it.  Just this once. 

“Like I said,” Elena’s tone was flat.  “That’s what the other Elena wanted.  I really don’t care.”

“Someone accidentally scratched my car up when opening their side door, but it’s not a huge deal and I think I can get some paint for it today when I’m getting a dress for that party welcoming the new freshmen . . .” Megan’s loud voice announced her arrival as she strode through with one last brown box of things that she set carefully onto her bed.  She glanced up, noticing the unnatural silence.  “Is something wrong?”

Elena opened her mouth, but Caroline hurriedly jumped in before the newer vampire could speak.  “Did you mention a party?”

Megan blinked.  “Yeah.  It’s tonight, starting at eight at the Whitmore House.  Are you guys going to come?”

“We’d love to!” Caroline gushed.  She gave her best friends a strained smile.  “Wouldn’t we, you guys?”

“Sure,” Bonnie said and even Elena tilted her head in interest.

Megan grinned.  “Great!  I’m going to get a shower.  We can leave in a few hours.”  She grabbed some of her clothes from a box and then a towel and headed to the bathroom.  The three other girls breathed a sigh of relief as she disappeared.  Caroline turned and opened their miniature fridge.

“No blood yet, unfortunately.”  She paused.  “Wait.  Did she already put _her_ stuff in _our_ fridge?”  Caroline shot Bonnie and Elena an offended glance.  “Rude.”  She snatched one of the water bottles Megan had managed to sneak into the fridge and unscrewed the tap. 

“Isn’t that a little petty?”  Bonnie asked.

“Maybe,” Caroline sniffed and tossed back the water.

She promptly threw it straight back up, coughing and choking.  Elena’s brows arched in curiosity while Bonnie dove over to Caroline’s side.  “Care?  Caroline?”

“Vervain!”  She hissed.  “She has to know about us!”

“Now can I kill her?”  Elena asked idly.

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.

.

Stephanie went in search of the witch, Katie.  Unfortunately, she didn’t know where to look and had to ask around town to find out she had a little magic shop in the Quarter.  When she got there, Steph found a sign in the window saying that the store was closed for the day, which from what Stephanie had gathered from the people in town, was highly unusual.  She narrowed her eyes and wrapped one hand around the doorknob and twisted it sharply, breaking the lock.  Bells jingled as she opened the wooden door and stepped inside.

Steph could hear the reliable thumping of a heartbeat in the back of the shop and she sighed in relief, glad to have gotten there before Klaus had taken the young witch.

“Katie?”  Stephanie called quietly as she followed the heartbeat.  She gently pushed aside the dangling beads separating the main store from the back rooms where there appeared to be extra stock, a restroom and kitchen utensils on the counter, and most importantly, a round table where Katie sat with an open book.  A young black woman looked up when Steph spoke, eyes a little unfocused.  Steph’s stomach clenched.  Compulsion?

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Katie said cheerfully.  She continued flipping through a magic book and scribbled something onto some paper.  “Klaus said I had to watch out for your arrival.”

Stephane strode forward.  “Katie, we need to get out of here.  You’re in danger.”

“Oh, I know.  But Kol said to not be afraid, so I’m not.  It’s strange, isn’t it?  I feel like I should be, but I’m not.”  Katie hummed a little and then broke out into a smile as she found whatever it was she was looking for.  She raised her hands and began to chant.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that,” Stephanie said quietly, intensely.  “You’ll be killed.”

Katie glanced up.  “No, _I’m_ sorry.”  She directed her hands at Stephanie and an intense migraine built up from behind her eyes, making Steph’s hands fly up to her head.  She gasped raggedly and slowly sank to her knees.  “But I have to do this.  Kol said so.”  Then darkness came for Stephanie, pulling her under.

When she woke, the sun was setting and there was screaming coming from the streets.  Stephanie jerked from her slumped position against the wall and her eyes tracked every moment in the darkness, but detected nothing in the back room.  The sound of breaking glass made Stephanie leap to her feet and rush to the front of the store.

There, Katie was being held by the neck to the wall by the nightwalker from the parking garage, fangs out as he prepared to ravage her.  Stephanie sped in his direction and flung him off, sending the nightwalker tumbling feet over head backward over the counter.  The cash register made a sharp noise as his body crashed into it.  The vampire was up and diving toward them again in a matter of seconds.  Stephanie shoved Katie behind her body roughly to protect her, but there was another blur in front of her before Stephanie had the chance to attack; Thierry, running to the rescue, brought a stake up and jabbed it through the nightwalker’s heart, instantly making him shrivel up, withering into nothing but a greying carcass. 

Stephanie turned around immediately to check on her charge, patting down Katie with deft, gentle fingers to make sure she was unharmed, but the witch tore herself out of Steph’s grasp and ran into Thierry’s embrace.  She met his eyes across the tattered remains of the store and saw to recognition or condemnation; Klaus had drained him of vervain and compelled him as well then.

A heartbeat later and it seemed the entirety of Marcel’s gang had flooded into the magic shop.  Diego was at the forefront, staring wide-eyed at the nightwalker.  His head whipped between the body, Thierry and Katie before briefly flashing onto Stephanie herself.  “What – Thierry?  What happened in here?”

“He was going to kill her,” Thierry said, distracted.  Katie bawled into his shoulder and he petted her hair with in a deft, practiced motion.

Diego’s eyes narrowed.  “Wait a minute.  That’s the witch that Marcel said was the one practicing magic.  You should have let him kill her.”

Katie burst into sobs anew and Thierry’s grip on her tightened.  “No,” He said tightly.

“’ _No_ ’?  You just violated one of our laws, Thierry.  You know what happens next,” A new voice arrived.  Stephanie looked at the doorway and narrowed her eyes; it was Marcel, and she could see Klaus at his shoulder.  “You – you’re my best friend, man and you have been for seventy years.  But you know what this means.  No one is exempted if they break the rules – and that’s the most important one, Thierry.  I saw you kill him.  You – you have to go to the Garden, man.”  Marcel swallowed thickly.

Thierry stilled and Katie’s sobs subsided for the first time.  Her eyes widened and she looked at her vampire lover.  “The Garden?  But isn’t that where they lock you up . . . starve you . . .”

Thierry slowly nodded his head and refused to look at Marcel.  “Yes.”

Katie’s hands clenched on the material of Thierry’s jacket.  “No,” She said firmly.  “No.”

Marcel arched his brows.  “Oh?”

“No,” Katie whispered again and she dropped her hold from Thierry.  She raised her hands and the air immediately crackled with tension.  Latin poured from her lips and the fury in her voice was almost tangible.  Marcel dropped to the ground, sudden screams tearing from his throat.  He scrabbled at the shop floor and blood began to pour from his ears. 

Klaus and Stephanie rushed Katie at the same time, for very different reasons.

.

.

.

The girls went to the party at the Whitmore house together, but they forgot one key thing; they needed an invitation.  “I still say that we conveniently get rid of Megan tonight,” Elena said easily.  She paused at the threshold as an invisible barrier kept her back.  “Damn.”

“I’ll see if I can get someone to invite you in,” Bonnie said quietly to the two vampires. 

Ahead of them from inside the house, Megan called back.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!”  Caroline said a little shrilly.  “Just . . . waiting for someone, that’s all.  We’ll be in a while.”  Megan shrugged her shoulders, placated, and Bonnie disappeared into the house to find its owner.  Elena crossed her arms and sighed, bored.

Caroline bit her nails.  “We should find Megan tonight and drain the vervain out of her.  Then we can compel her.”  Elena rolled her eyes and opened her mouth, but Caroline motioned for her to shut it.  “I already know what you want to do!”

“Hey.”  Caroline spun around wildly, eyes wide.  Behind her was an attractive young black man, maybe a sophomore or a junior.  He had a nice, wide open smile and soft brown eyes.  Caroline melted a little bit.

“Hi,” She squeaked.

“Have I met you before?”  He asked with a sweet smile.

“I think we ran into you in the quad earlier today,” Elena said airily.  “We just moved in today.”

The man’s smile broadened.  “Must have.  I’m Jesse.”  His dark eyes were locked onto Caroline’s light blue ones.

“Caroline,” She said.  “That’s my friend and roommate, Elena.”

“Nice to meet you ladies,” Jesse said and offered his hand.  Caroline took it into hers and shook it gently, and Elena declined to touch him.  “What are you doing standing out here?”

“Waiting for someone,” Caroline said.  “They should be here soon.”

“Boyfriend?”  Jesse fished.

Caroline became flustered.  “No – no boyfriends right now.  Last one ended a little – um, badly.”

“To say the least,” Elena interjected coolly.  “He was a dick who ran off with a new friend.”  Caroline glared, while Jesse frowned in sympathy.

“I’m sorry.  I recently had a bit of a bad relationship myself,” He said.  He shoved his hands into his pockets.  “I’m going in . . . you’re welcome to find me when your friend shows up, okay?”

“Okay.”  Caroline nodded her head quickly and watched Jesse’s back as he stepped over the threshold and into the throng of gyrating bodies.  “Oh, he was cute.”  Before Elena could say something mocking, Caroline’s phone began to ring; it was Bonnie.  “Hey, where are you?”

“Inside.”  Caroline frowned at the sound of Bonnie’s a voice; she was frantic and her breathing was hard.  “There’s a vampire chasing Megan.  I’ve been following them, but my magic isn’t working for me.  It’s been like this since they purged the Expression.  I think my ancestors are still pissed.”

“Where are you?”  Caroline demanded.                                                                                          

“Second floor –” Bonnie was cut off by a scream and shattering glass.  “Oh God, it just tore into her neck and threw her out the window.”  The phone cut off.

Caroline shot Elena a disturbed look and then as ran as fast as humanly possible toward the smell of blood.  Elena was just behind her and nearly bowled Caroline over as they rounded a sharp corner of the Whitmore house, stumbling in their high heels in the grass when they caught side of the body.  Megan was lying in the grass, head at an impossible angle and hunks of flesh torn right out of her neck.  There were broken pieces of glass everywhere, and they looked up; they could see Bonnie’s horrified face in the shattered window two stories above their heads.

“We’ve got to call 911!”  Caroline took out her phone, but Elena grabbed it before she could call anyone.

“We’ll be linked back to this,” She hissed.  “Weren’t you the one just telling me about exposure?  Those are vampire marks all over her neck.”

“We have to do something!”  Caroline snapped.

“I agree.  First, we leave the body alone.  Second, I do this.”  Elena stepped forward and rummaged around Megan’s pockets until she found whatever she was looking for on the body.  “Here.  We’ll see if there are any clues on her phone as to what she knew about vampires.  Now let’s get out of here before the campus patrol men show up.”  Elena slipped both Megan and Caroline’s phones into her purse and then spun around on her heel.

There was nothing more for Bonnie and Caroline to do than follow behind their friend, aghast.

.

.

.

Klaus shoved Katie away from Marcel, sufficiently distracting her from her spell and consequently released Marcel of his pain.  As the hybrid bent down to snap the witch’s neck, Stephanie’s fingers grasped the soft fabric of Katie’s jacket and pulled her backward out of his reach.  The witch’s eyes were round with fear and anger as Stephanie placed her body firmly between Katie and the rest of the vampires waiting to kill her.

“Don’t touch her,” Stephanie warned quietly.  “She was only defending Thierry.”

“And was practicing magic to destroy _me_!”  Marcel roared and he staggered to his feet.  “Get out of the way or I’ll make you.”  He took a threatening step forward, but Stephanie didn’t cower or flinch.  Her hands went behind her to grasp onto Katie’s trembling arms and she held on tightly.  Thierry came to stand behind his beloved, hands at her sides.  He voiced nothing of his suspicions about Klaus – most likely they’d been compelled silent.

“She can leave the Quarter.”  Stephanie searched for an alternate solution.  “You don’t have to kill her.”

“I told you to get out of the way,” Marcel snapped angrily.  A vein throbbed in his forehead.  “ _I_ decide the punishments around here, not _you_!  She tried to kill me, so she’s dead.  Thierry killed another vampire, so he has to go to the Garden for a while.  Then, all will be forgiven.  But first, you have to _move_.”

“Now, Marcel,” Klaus began to intercede.  The look he shot Stephanie said he wasn’t happy; she felt a bit of smugness.  “You’re right – the witch and Thierry need to be punished.  But why not be . . . creative about it?  Send Thierry to the Garden like you planned.  But Katie . . . well, there’s not worse punishment for a witch than to lose contact with the earth . . . and I’m sure she’d make a lovely vampire.  She’d conveniently replace the nightwalker Thierry killed.”

Behind her, Katie tensed.  “No,” She choked.  “Please, no.”  She began to tremble.

Slowly, Marcel began to grin.  “Well, well, Klaus.  You continue to impress me with your ideas.  Let’s do it.”

Stephanie fought the urge to snarl as Marcel grabbed Katie from behind her and force fed her some of his blood.  Katie struggled, eyes round with fear and blame as they focused on her.  Steph stepped forward to intervene, but Klaus’ hand was thrown across her middle, holding her to his chest.

“I’ve already saved both of your lives tonight, love,” Klaus whispered.  “Somehow I don’t think I could get convince Marcel that punishing you for intervening would be a bad idea.”

“You won’t let anything happen to me.”  Stephanie knew she could say this with absolute confidence.

“True,” Klaus said.  “But it would definitely put us back in our plans to retrieve Elijah.  Speaking of . . .” Marcel snapped Katie’s neck and let her limp body drop to the dirty ground.  Behind them, Thierry made a sharp keening noise as he rushed to cradle her head in his lap.

“Diego, take her back to the club and wake for her to wake up – feed her when she does.  Klaus, help me lock up Thierry.  Then we’ll get a drink,” Marcel commanded, and instantly his vampires were at his beck and call.  Diego scooped Katie up none too delicately and carried her in a fireman’s hold down the dark street, while Marcel and Klaus each took a shoulder of Thierry’s and hauled him up to his feet.  Thierry didn’t struggle – he looked small and defeated.

“I’ll see you at home, love,” Klaus said. He brushed his cool lips across Stephanie's forehead in the faintest of kisses, and then he disappeared with Marcel.

Stephanie clenched her fists tightly and she turned on her heel.  As she headed to the Mikaelson home, she entertained the idea of leaving New Orleans.  The spell was off of the baby, releasing the hold the witches had on her, so clearly she was not a part of the Big Picture to take down Marcel anymore.  Staying, she said to herself, was really just asking for trouble.  Steph had thought she could reconcile Klaus’ different parts, piece together his fragmented soul.  He’d said he’d done the same for her, so she had supposed she owed it to him to at least try.  But then he turned around and did something like this. She sighed. When she got into the Mikaelson home, Kol told her he’d located Elijah again.  All they needed was for a human to get Elijah out for them. 

She brushed passed Kol and headed up to her bedroom.  Stephanie paced from her door to the window, listening to the messages on her phone from Caroline and Damon – Elena was at Whitmore, but her humanity was still off and it was all she and Bonnie could do to restrain her.  They had had a fourth roommate who had known too much about them but she’d mysteriously died that night, killed by a different vampire, an _unknown_ vampire.  Damon was nosy, asking what she was doing, why was she doing it, and when would she be home?  Stephanie wasn’t sure.  Because when she thought about it, she’d forgiven Damon for worse things than turning someone against their will.  She’d given him so many chances and he was doing so much better with Elena.  Maybe she owed it to Klaus to give him another chance too.  He’d been trying to rescue his brother, after all, and Stephanie could not confidently say that she wouldn’t do the same if it were Damon.

Downstairs, the door slammed.  Briefly, Kol and Klaus spoke with each other at a low level before Klaus flashed up to her room.  He knocked.

“That was a first,” She said dryly as she opened the door.

“Kol found Elijah.”

“I know.”

“Did you know that Marcel offered him back to us?”  Klaus drawled. 

Stephanie pressed her lips together for a moment, and then asked sardonically, “Well, why wouldn’t he, after you _saved_ him from Katie and punished her at the same time?”

“Someone sounds bitter.”

“Katie’s a vampire now.”  Stephanie rubbed her hands over her face.  “She’s going to be miserable.”

“At least she’s alive,” Klaus snapped, irritation clear for the first time in his voice. "There was nothing else I could do in the moment.”

“You could have avoided the situation entirely!”  Stephanie growled.  “You could have left her out of it!  Sophie could have performed the spell to distract Davina and Kol still would have found Elijah.”

“Or more likely Sophie would have refused,” Klaus said tightly.  “It was a chance I’d have rather not taken.”  He gave her an appealing look.  “It could not be avoided, but if it is any consolation, I am . . . sorry, for the pain you feel at her loss.  I’m sorry." He continued, changing the subject.  “Marcel was obviously curious about the pregnancy.  I told him some witches cursed us in Mystic Falls.” It was the truth, after all. 

“Good night,” Klaus said quietly.  He took a step forward and kissed the top of her forward tenderly.  Before she could decide whether she was going to lean into the touch or push him away, Klaus flashed out of her bedroom.

She shut her door with a click. 

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.

.

tbc


	3. we were never welcome here at all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone  
> No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden  
> No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love  
> No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love  
> No more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world.”

_._

_._

**.**

It was noticeable now.

There was a firm roundness to the flesh between her hips, swelling just a little bit outwards and making her have difficulty pulling up her jeans’ zipper.  It wasn’t obvious and no one else would notice it unless she took off her shirt, but _she_ knew it was there, could feel it.  The nausea she had experienced was not abating – if anything, it was worse and came at very inopportune times.  Sex wasn’t particularly appealing at the moment.  She felt lethargic.  She craved human blood – from the vein.  Blood bags tasted foul on her tongue. 

Stephanie needed to see a doctor to make sure everything was progressing well.  But therein lie her problem; all the humans that lived in the Quarter were on vervain, as the vampires were to feed from visitors and tourists only.  Steph didn’t want this piece of news getting out beyond what it already had and she didn’t want to add another variable, like humans’ involvement.  What if someone got curious?

She’d have to find someone discreet and that already knew about the child.  Unfortunately, that limited her options to a very small, very suspect pool of people – the witches.  Stephanie didn’t want to entrust the safety of her unborn child to them, to those who would manipulate them, but there wasn’t much of a choice.  She wasn’t sure she trusted Kol anymore than them.

“Are you ready?”  Stephanie looked up and found Sophie Devereux standing in her bedroom doorway.  Klaus and Kol were out; their own plans to get Elijah back under way during the festival that would be starting in an hour or so.  “We’ve got a little bit of a drive out to the bayou, so we should head out now.” 

Did she trust Sophie? 

Not a chance in hell. 

But there were very few other options available. 

“Yeah,” Stephanie said.  She pulled her leather jacket over her loose, faded green hoody because of the cool evening air and the fleeting sunshine that was dipping below the horizon.  “Let’s go.”  She followed the witch out of the house and down into the long, winding driveway, where a small black car was parked haphazardly.

It was quiet as they drove except for the whine of the air conditioner and the background hum of the radio on its lowest volume setting.  If Stephanie concentrated, she could hear the fluttering heartbeat of her baby.  Sophie shot her occasional curious glances, but never spoke a word.   Steph didn’t mind. 

The witch decided to break the silence.  “Does Klaus know you’re doing this?”  The spark of mockery in her eyes answered her own question.

“That’s not really your business, is it?”  Stephanie asked.  She stared forward.

“As I’d rather _not_ get turned into a vampire for pissing him off, it kind of is.”  Sophie’s hands tightened around the driver’s wheel, fingers clenching and unclenching with sudden tension.

Realization dawned.  Steph pursed her lips.  “You heard about Katie.”

“Of course I damn well heard about Katie,” Sophie hissed, a burst of fury crossing her face and entering her voice.  “The whole witch community has heard about what happened to Katie.  You know, she’s already become a warning tale for people?  Don’t get involved with a vampire or else you’ll be turned into one.  Not really original, but it nails the point home.  A lot of the elders are rethinking this alliance with Klaus because of it.”

“It doesn’t really matter whether we have an alliance or not,” Stephanie said, deadpan.  Her fingers unconsciously gravitated toward her burgeoning bump.  She looked at Sophie.  “Klaus will deal with Marcel with or without your help, considering you’ve done nothing so far except threaten him.”  And they had no hold over the baby anymore, which apparently Sophie didn’t know yet.  The longer they could keep that secret, the better.  “Klaus hates to be threatened.”

“Yeah, well, _we_ hate that Davina is stuck in the clutches of that bastard, Marcel,” Sophie snapped.  “We also hate that we can’t practice magic anymore without being gunned down.”

They were quiet again for several minutes.

In an attempt to change the subject, Stephanie brought up a pressing question.  “So who is going to be checking out the . . . baby?” It was still weird to think about.  She already felt a passionate amount of emotion for the child inside of her – guilt, that she was bringing it into this mess with her and Klaus as its parents; fear, that something would go wrong during the mystical pregnancy; fierce protectiveness to guard its precious new life; and love, an already overpowering, utterly overwhelming amount of love for this tiny new being.

“A doctor in the know, one of our elders – Agnes, and Sabine – Agnes has a little bit of experience with stuff like this and Sabine is a talented witch who is a bit of a seer.  We trust the doctor.  They’ll be able to help.”  Sophie’s fingers loosened on the wheel of the car.  “No reason to worry.” 

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.

.

“Over the course of my life, I have encountered no shortage of those that would presume to know of good and evil.  Such terms mean nothing.  People do what is in their best interest, regardless of who gets hurt.  Is it evil to take what one wants . . . to satisfy their needs . . . to insure the safety of their loved ones?  What some would call evil, I would call an appropriate response to a harsh and unknown world.”

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t understand what any of this has to do with me.  I barely even know you.” 

Klaus turned his head.  Behind him, Cami stood with her hair twisted up into a ponytail, leaning against the doorjamb.  Her intelligent eyes were narrowed on him, sleeveless arms folded over her chest stubbornly.  He had gone to her home that morning, eager to see what information she could pass along from her affair with Marcel – including when Marcel was planning on releasing Elijah – thanks to Stephanie’s compulsion.

“Because I enjoy your company and I sense you have the capacity to understand someone of my . . . complexity,” Klaus drawled.  He took a step forward and where others would flinch, Cami merely raised her chin.  She had such courage, so much bravery . . . there was a fire in Camille that intrigued Klaus.  He loathed to admit it to himself, but he found that he was starting to enjoy the human’s company.  “I came to New Orleans only to discover my girl is pregnant because of some magic, and the witches here intend to manipulate me with her and the child.  I traded my insufferable brother to a man I wanted to trust me, but now he won’t return him despite a promise he made.  Then I find a young woman held captive by the man I wanted to trust me – a tyrant in his own right, I assure – and I want to help both of these women – my girl and the teenager I found.  So, tell me, Cami, does that sound evil to you?”

“I don’t believe in evil as a diagnosis,” Cami said flatly.  She turned her eyes up to meet Klaus’ intense gaze.  “I think that you have unstable personal relationships, chronic anger issues, fear of abandonment . . . I think you could use a person to talk to, professionally that is.  Just not me.”

“I’d prefer to talk to you.”  His pink lips curled up into a smile.  “I’m going to offer you a job as my stenographer.”

“What would we be writing?” Cami sighed.  Klaus walked passed her and settled himself into the red chair that was tucked in to her dining room table.  He leaned back and crossed his ankles in front of him.

“We’re writing my memoirs, of course.”  He smirked.  “We’ll spend this time together doing that, right after you report on your relationship with Marcel.”

“That’s private,” She protested. 

“It’s also what Stephanie compelled you to do,” He reminded her.

“She compelled me to go out with Marcel and get inside information,” Cami corrected.  “She didn’t say I had to tell _you_ about it.”

“ _Now you do_.”

Cami’s eyes blanked for a moment and then cleared as the compulsion took hold.  “Yes, Klaus,” She murmured.

“The French Quarter is on the verge of war, with me on one side and Marcel on the other.  He has a bit of a wild card up his sleeve – the young woman he’s holding captive, she’s a witch – and a powerful one.  So I want to know what you know about Marcel and his plans.”    Klaus put his fingers together in a steeple. 

Cami pursed her lips, trying to hold her words back, but the compulsion forced her to speak.  “He called me this morning before you arrived.  He wants me to escort Davina around the Dauphine Festival.”  She looked at her watch.  “Actually, I’m supposed to be leaving now.”

Klaus’ eyes lit up.  “Indeed?  Continue, sweetheart.”

“She’s rebelling against authority or something and that’s one of the reasons why he asked me; I think he hopes that I can set her straight with my education in psych.  I told Marcel that I would because of Stephanie’s compulsion . . . and I felt a bit sorry for her.”

Klaus smiled, pleased.  He took a step backward, away from Camille.  “Good.  Now, I now I may need your assistance later with some family matters concerning Elijah . . . do keep your phone on just in case.  You’re my backup plan.”

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.

Gravel crunched beneath her big black boots as she walked beside Sophie up to the old, scrappy looking house sitting up on stilts.  It was off-white, probably more from the weather than any decorating attempts, with wild grasses and plants curling up the sides of the house and over the porch.  Paint curled off of the sides of the house lazily, half holding on despite the winds.  Standing just outside the door were two black witches – one young with free, curly hair and a half smile, and the other older with lines around her eyes and mouth.  Her hair was pulled up into a bun with a few curls flying loose over her forehead.

“Nice set up you have here, really,” Steph said critically.  “Do you perform open-heart surgery with rusty shears too?”

“The doctor had to relocate because Marcel was terrorizing her,” Sophie explained stiffly, clearly offended.  She turned her head and focused on her two coven mates.  “Sabine, Agnes,” Sophie greeted them with a head nod.  “You remember Stephanie Salvatore.”

“The vampire carrying the hybrid’s bastard child,” Agnes said quietly, eyes locking onto Stephanie’s.  They were intense and staring, boring holes into Steph’s head.  The lines were crinkled and her lips were pursed together in a concentrated – displeased? – frown.  Stephanie put a hand to her lower abdomen to protect it.

“Excuse Agnes,” Sabine intervened smoothly.  She stepped off of the porch and offered a hand to Steph.  “She’s a bit set into the times were a man and woman were married before they had children, preferably as humans.”  Her perfect white teeth glinted in the sunshine as she smiled widely, her hand unwavering as continued to wait for the vampire to take it into her own.

Stephanie took the warm hand and shook it once, firmly.  “Just as long as it’s only name calling,” Steph replied.  “Anything else and I might get a little . . . testy.”

Sabine chuckled.  “Of course.  Come on in; we’ve got everything set up for you in the house.”  She nodded her head toward the door and led the way.  Stephanie followed after her, with Sophie behind her.  Agnes’ gaze burned Stephanie as she continued to watch her until Steph was out of sight.

She was led into what looked to be a guest room with a twin bed settled against the far wall and another mysterious woman.  Witching ingredients were spread out over tables and chairs, making her put on guard for any tricks.  She tensed her muscles in case she needed to fight or flee.  Sophie disappeared somewhere into the house, while Agnes and Sabine stayed inside the room with Steph.  The strange woman, presumably the doctor, looked up at Stephanie. 

“Sit,” She commanded sharply and rolled over a small machine.  “There aren’t any stirrups, obviously, so you’ll have to exercise some self-control and stay still.”  Stephanie stripped off her leather jacket and settled onto the twin bed.  The doctor pushed her shoulders back onto the mattress and moved to push up the vampire’s sweatshirt. 

“I’ve got it,” Stephanie said quietly, and rolled her shirt up toward her sore, slightly swollen breasts.  The small curve of her belly was exposed to the other three women in the room.  Sabine smiled reassuringly, but Agnes only narrowed her eyes.  The doctor had a glint of scientific curiosity and something else that Stephanie was hard-pressed to decipher. 

The doctor, whose name Steph had yet to learn, squirted a jelly like substance onto her soft stomach and used a medical wand to rub it over her skin.  The machine next to the bed beeped to life and an image flickered onto the screen, presumably a picture of the inside of her womb.  It took a minute, but the doctor found the heartbeat and then pointed out the head and the tiny body of the baby.

“What’s your name?”  Stephanie asked the doctor quietly, even as her eyes were riveted to the small screen, watching her baby.

“Dr. Paige,” The woman murmured distractedly.  She made a small noise and pulled away the wand.  “Everything looks normal so far.  You’re about ten to eleven weeks along.  The fetus is healthy – almost too perfect,” The doctor grouched.  She sounded mildly disappointed – was she hoping for some obviously visible supernatural trait from an ultrasound?  Some deformity from being conceived by a hybrid and a vampire?  “The fetus has nails now, and its limbs can bend.  I can’t tell the sex of the child yet – I won’t be until around the 18 to 20 week mark.”  Dr. Paige turned toward Agnes and Sabine.  “They, however, might be able to work some magic, no pun intended.  So that’s my job done.  She’s all yours.”

“What are you doing?” Stephanie asked sharply.  She reached over and grabbed a tattered grey towel and began to pat herself dry of jell.  “Is that all?”

“There’s some things that only magic can tell,” Agnes said ominously and dismissed Dr. Paige.  The strange woman disappeared out of the guest room, leaving Steph only with the two witches.

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.

.

“Church is closed, so you better go find your house of horrors somewhere else.”  The preacher had his back turned to the door, using a broom and a dustpan to sweep up broken glass from the floor.

“Fortunately for you, I’m completely uninterested in any of that,” Kol replied bemusedly.  “I am, however, absolutely fascinated by the architecture of this church.”

“Uh huh,” The priest pressed his lips together.  Slowly, he straightened up his back and set the dustpan and the straw broom against one of the front pews.  He folded his arms across his chest and his brows furrowed deeply above his eyes as they swept Kol’s lean form and spikey hair.  “Are you really interested in architecture?”

“Ah, you caught me.”  Kol swept out his hands in a wide gesture, palms facing the ceiling, a faux apologetic frown on his face.  “I’m actually here to confess my sins.  What’s your name, Father?”

“Father Kieran,” The priest introduced, still clearly very skeptical.  “And you are, young man?”

“Kol.  Say, what happened over there?”  Kol pointed at the wall of the church, squinting his eyes to make it appear as if he was having difficulty seeing in the dark.

“St. Anne’s used to be the heart of the Quarter, but it hasn’t been the same since the massacre.  Nine seminar students were killed.  You’re standing on and staring at blood.”  Father Kieran stared Kol down, but the vampire only smiled pleasantly.

“I’m not squeamish at all, I assure you, Father.  Hey, before I start my confession, do you supposed I could take a look around?  Go upstairs, peak into the attic . . . wander a bit?”  Kol gave the priest a charming smile.

Father Kieran wasn’t fazed.  “No.  Like I said, the church is closed.  I’m sorry, but I’ll have to hear your confession some other day – or maybe you could find another church.  There are a few around.”

Kol pulled an exaggerated face.  “But see, this is a bit of an emergency.  I’ve lied, coveted, stolen,” He stepped into Kieran’s personal space and breathed into his ear, “even killed.  I want to tell you all about it.”

Kieran took a step back and eyed Kol warily.  “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, pal, but it’s over.  Get out of the church or I will call the police and tell them you’ve just admitted to murder.”

Kol rolled his eyes.  “Alright, I’m done playing games.”  He compelled Kieran, “ _Tell me where the attic is._ ”

Kieran’s face went a little slack.  “Up the stairs and to your right.”

“Thanks, darling.  _Forget we had this lovely conversation_.”  Kol patted him on the back and blurred up the stairs.  Like the priest had said, there was a wooden door leading – presumably – to the attic.  He pushed it open.  Like someone had opened the floodgates, memory poured back into Kol’s consciousness; he remembered being here before with the witch, Davina _, there were art and sketches littered throughout and strung up on the walls and the ceiling.  To his left and at the end of the room was a dark headed girl facing her mirror?  To his right was Elijah’s coffin._

He blinked out of the memory to find that Davina was gone but Elijah’s coffin was still on Kol’s right.  He raised his hand to the door, but was unsurprised to feel the magical force field fling it back.  Elijah’s coffin was open and his older brother was exposed.  Suddenly his eyes popped open and –

Kol’s surroundings disappeared around him and he found himself back in time, wearing a black suit hearing tinny dancing music all around him.  “What the bloody hell is this?”  He barked.

“Language, brother, please,” Elijah’s voice admonished him.  Kol jerked and found his elder wearing a matching suit and standing across from him.  Elijah smiled.

“What’s going on?”  Kol asked.  “Where are we?”

“In a memory of mine,” Elijah explained.

“How are you awake?”  Kol glared.  “We’ve been looking for you.”

“Marcel released me of the dagger but Davina decided to keep me here – she’s planning on finding a way to kill an Original.  They didn’t replace the dagger, so I’ve been slowly regaining my strength.  I should be as good as new within a few hours.”  Elijah inclined his head and Kol followed him through iron plated gates and into an opera house.  They stepped into a large theater and were submerged in no longer tinny music and hundreds of humans sitting in their chairs, watching attentively to the show.

“Then let’s get out of here, Elijah,” Kol said impatiently.  “Now, preferably.”

Elijah shook his head.  “I’m afraid I’m not quite ready to leave yet, however.  Davina is . . . curious.  I want to propose a truce of some kind, so this war between the witches and the vampires can end before it really gets onto his feet.  Do you see what I mean, brother?”

“I think you’re mad,” Kol said dryly.  “These witches aren’t looking for a truce – they want Marcel dead.”

“I’m sure something can be arranged,” Elijah replied serenely.  “Would you tell Niklaus what I’ve told you?”

“Fine,” Kol grouched and the opera faded around him.  He blinked again and he was back on the threshold of the attic.  “You’re bloody barmy,” Kol said to his brother’s motionless form.   “This isn’t going to turn out the way you hope it will,” He warned darkly.  Then he turned on his heel and left the church, and Elijah, behind him.

He wanted to enjoy the festival while it lasted.

.

.

.

Sabine took a step toward Stephanie and held out her hand.  “I’m a bit of a seer,” She explained quietly.  “So I’ll be able to figure out if the baby will be a boy or a girl.  But what I’m also going to do is try to see what kind of nutrients the baby needs – blood or human edibles?”  It made sense; Stephanie surmised the witch could be able to somehow figure out what exactly the baby would need to survive before it was born – magic and everything. 

Still, she was wary.  New Orleans – and her recent experience in Mystic Falls with Expression – was quickly teaching her to be wary of all witches.  “I could consume both.  And a surprise is always nice.”

“I just want to make sure,” Sabine pressed.  She placed her hands onto Stephanie’s abdomen before she could continue to protest.  Her eyes closed and her head drooped forward, while her lips continued to move silently.  Stephanie tensed.  Sabine’s head flew up suddenly and she dropped her hands to her sides.  She swallowed.  “You’re going to have a little boy.”  Stephanie’s mind blanked for a moment, unfortunately leading her to miss the strain in Sabine’s voice.

Then she blinked her eyes rapidly – a boy.  Stephanie was going bring a life into the world and it would be a little boy.  Her lips twitched at the corners, curling upward into a small smile.  As her hands began to move toward her abdomen, Agnes’ fingers curled around Sabine’s elbow.  Quickly, the elder witch hurried the younger out of the room and into the hall, closing the door behind them with a click.

Stephanie was forced out of her lull at the sound.  She sat up and listened to their whispered conversation through the wall.

“I had a vision,” Sabine said quickly, breathlessly.  “This child, when it is born, will bring destruction to _all_ of us.  It will be the end of the New Orleans witches, Agnes.  He – that little monster will be as bad as his father.  It needs to be dealt with now, before it becomes too late.  I saw visions of red, blood dripping down the walls, heads rolling – Agnes, it was a living _nightmare_.”

“Good thing I called in some backup,” Agnes replied, her voice was cold and decisive.  It simultaneously sent shivers down Steph’s spine and warmed the pit of her belly with fierce anger.

She stood and flicked her eyes toward the window.  A dark van had pulled up some time during the examination, and two burly looking men clad in dark clothes stepped out of the vehicle as if on cue.  Witches?  Vampires working behind Marcel and Klaus’ backs?   The door began to creak back open and Stephanie decided she’d have to take her chances.

She jumps out the window and landed firmly on her ankles.  The shattering glass made Agnes and Sabine hurry, and the two men looked up at her crouched figure.  Immediately, they raised their hands in an offensive gesture and the front door flew open to reveal the three witches that had been inside.  Sophie’s face had lost its color and her hands appeared to be magically restrained to her sides.

“I didn’t know!”  She shouted to Steph. 

“Miss Salvatore, please reconsider your actions,” Agnes said, voice gravelly.  “Listen to what Sabine saw and then I’m sure you’ll understand why this needs to happen.”

“I already heard what she said, and once was enough for me.  I think it’s time I get going, because it looks like I’ve worn out my welcome.”  Stephanie straightened and the two men took another step closer.  They began to spread out – the men and the two able witches – to put Stephanie in a circle.

“Now, now, let’s not be rash.  Why don’t you just go back inside and we’ll all sit down and talk about this,” Agnes suggested and the look in her eyes was clearly intended to be reassuring but all Stephanie saw was the malice toward her unborn son.

She gave them an unimpressed glance.  “Should I make a list of all the reasons why I think that would be a bad idea?”

Agnes raised her hands and began to chant.  Stephanie decided to not waste any more time; she ran as quickly as she could, and made her way out of the bayou.

.

.

.

She headed to the festival in the Quarter after her escape, after she tried calling Klaus and found that he wasn’t answering his phone.  The party had very clearly picked up as the night had worn on; blasting music echoed through the streets, happy drunk people sank and danced with their friends, and lights and brightly colored costumes and dresses lit up the entire street.  Unsettled from her encounter with the witches, Stephanie kept a close eye on everyone and everything in her vicinity – then her vigilance paid off.

Stephanie caught sight of Marcel speaking to a man – the priest of the church, looking at his outfit.  She focused her hearing and listened in to their conversation, hoping for some news about what had been going on during her . . . excursion . . . into the bayou.

“I take you it you know the Originals are back in town?” Father Kieran asked Marcel gruffly.  From her vantage point, Steph was able to see Marcel’s face lose its warmth.  He nodded to the priest, so the Father continued.  “Well, I saw one of the brother’s at the church; he was sniffing around, asking about the attic.  He doesn’t know I’m on vervain.  You’ve got a problem on your hands.”

Marcel rolled his lips together.  “No disrespect, but I need to know, are you here to help or are you just going to drop in with criticism?”

“Never forget, Marcel, that you live in the city by the grace of those that know your secret and tolerates you.”  Father Kieran took a step closer to the vampire, aiming for intimidation.

Marcel took the bait.  “And _you_ know that this city _thrives_ because of me and my people.  Any time you need a reminder of that, just let me know.”  The two men gazed into each other’s eyes tensely and Stephanie thought their alpha male posturing would just continue when Josh suddenly appeared at their sides, all his attention focused on Marcel.

“Hey, I thought you might want to know that the girls have been lost.  I – I mean, no one has any eyes on them anymore,” Josh reported nervously.  Marcel’s brows furrowed and he immediately dismissed Father Kieran and followed Josh down the busy street.

Stephanie made an executive decision.  She followed them. 

Josh disappeared into the throng of people, clearly getting back to the party, but Marcel sought out a lone Cami.  Stephanie quickly gathered that she had been watching the little witch, Davina, but she’d gone to meet a high school crush at Father Kieran’s church.  She followed Marcel at a distance, and stayed in the shadows he discovered a lone Davina in the church, cradling a broken violin.

“What are you doing here?”

“I live here, remember?”  And the young witch bitterly turned her back on her vampire protector.  Stephanie slipped back out and found something not so surprising; Klaus, waiting for her.

The unexpected thing was his chipper smile and the bounce in his step.

“Hello, love,” Klaus greeted.  “I found out a curious thing – did you know Cami had a brother?  Something made him spiral out of control and massacred his fellow seminar students.  I wonder why?”

“Compulsion?”  Steph hazarded a guess.  “That’s not why you’re so happy.  Why is that, by the way?”

“Cami also has a few theories about psychosis that she explained to me,” Klaus blithely continued.  “She’s a very interesting person to chat with.  But don’t be jealous, love, you know you’re the only one for me.”  He grinned.

“Can we talk somewhere else?”  Stephanie raised her brows in a significant manner.  “Somewhere Marcel won’t be able to accidentally overhear?”

Klaus shrugged and together they made their way back toward the Mikaelson home.  “What were you doing at the church?”  She asked when they were out of earshot.

“Making sure that Davina knows it’s in her best interest that she sides with me in the upcoming war,” Klaus explained easily.

“Ah, I see, that’s why you’re so happy; you must have killed some of her loved ones,” Stephanie said sardonically, nodded her head in faux understanding. 

Klaus sniffed, offended.  “I only threatened and then healed.  She owes me a favor now.”  When she gave him a deadpan look, he smirked.  “So that’s my day.  Where were you?”

Stephanie made a face that had Klaus’ good humor faded away.  “With Agnes and Sabine.  Can I just name the million other people I’d have rather been stranded with in the bayou?”

Klaus stopped short.  “What did they do?” He growled.  Blue, suddenly flaming eyes were sweeping possessively over her body, darting down to her lower abdomen.  “Did they hurt you?”

“No.”  Stephanie pursed her lips.  “I needed someone to look up on the baby and I really only had Sophie to trust.  So she took me out to the bayou so Agnes, Sabine and some voodoo witch doctor could look us over.  Then Sabine had a vision that our baby would rein hell on earth and they decided it needed to be . . . taken care of.  I got out in time.”

“The witches were supposed to protect you,” He hissed.  “When I get my hands on Sophie Devereux –”

“She had nothing to do with it,” Stephanie told him firmly.  “Or so she said.  I plan on checking out her story tomorrow.”

“I’ll kill her,” Klaus said.  “I’ll slaughter them all.”

“No.”  Stephanie crossed her arms.  “If Sophie had anything to do with it, _I’ll_ kill her.”  Klaus’ eyebrows rose at that and a tiny, proud smile danced across his lips.

“Not if Elijah does it first,” Kol’s voice rang out in the darkness.  Klaus and Stephanie turned their attention to his sudden appearance as he strolled into view via the moonlight.  “I found the bloody wanker in the attic.  He was awake and he has a plan.”

“Well?”  Klaus asked impatiently.

“He’s going to try and make a truce with the witches,” Kol explained, “with Davina, more precisely.” 

Some of Klaus’ good humor returned.  “Good thing I already have a rapport with her.”

.

.

.

When Stephanie checked her phone at the mansion, she found that she had several missing calls, all from Caroline.  Again.

She called her back.

_“Stephanie?!”_ Steph had to pull the phone back to avoid the shattering of her eardrums.  “Oh my God, I thought you’d never call me back!  I have so much to tell you!  And you have some serious explaining to do!”

“I will,” Stephanie reassured her friend, a smile coming to her face.  “Promise.  But tell me what all the calls today were for.”

Caroline huffed and then launched into an extended monologue of her misadventures at Whitmore College, starting with their fourth college roommate being attacked by a vampire and their creepy biology professor covering it up.

“What’s his name?”

“Dr. Wes Maxfield,” Caroline drew it out like he was the first evil.  “He’s the creepiest, I swear!  I knew there was something up with him before Megan died, I swear.  He has this aura around him or something, I don’t know.  But seriously?  There’s some weird stuff going on, Steph.  I met this guy named Jesse and I took him home for the Bell Ringing Ceremony in Mystic Falls and I thought we were getting along great and everything, but then he just vanished!  I mean, we got back to school that night, but after that, he was just gone.  His roommate hasn’t seen him since!  And that was days ago!”

Stephanie furrowed her brows, easily falling back into the role of Mystic Falls’ detective.  “Do you think his disappearance is connected with Megan’s death?  Maybe Maxfield has his hands in more than one bowl at Whitmore.  Has his . . . body turned up anywhere?”

“No,” Caroline denied quickly.  “No.  But I’m afraid . . . oh, Steph, I don’t know what to do.  Bonnie doesn’t use her magic anymore – she’s afraid to!  And Elena’s still off her rocker and Damon’s back in Mystic Falls, probably terrorizing my mother, and you’re not here with us!”

“Calm down, Caroline,” Stephanie said quietly, modulating her voice to sound soothing.  “Everything’s going to be okay.  Elena will turn her humanity back on.  Bonnie will figure out whether she wants to practice magic again.  Your mom can handle Damon.  And I’m just a plane ride away.  You’re going to figure this out with Dr. Maxfield, your roommate and Jesse.  Okay?  Breathe.”

Caroline heaved a huge sigh on the other end and counted to ten under her breath.  “Okay.  I’m okay.  I miss you, Steph.”

“I miss you too, Care,” Stephanie replied honestly.  “I’ll call you tomorrow.  To check up on how things are going.  Call me when you need something, okay?  I’ve been busy, but I promise I’ll answer from now on.”  She felt so guilty for ignoring her friend.

“Will you tell me what’s going on with you then?” Caroline demanded, recovering her minor panic attack.

Stephanie hummed.  “Bye Caroline.”

Caroline’s voice bordered on a whine, then.  “Steph –” But Stephanie clicked the phone shut and set it on her end table that sat next to her bed.

“Sounds like they’re falling apart without you.”  Klaus sounded dry and amused.  Stephanie looked up and found him leaning against her door jam.

“Done with your temper tantrum?”  Stephanie asked instead of responding to the bait.  Klaus stepped inside and invited himself into her bed.  They lay down side by side staring up at the ceiling as his hand slowly migrating to settle on her stomach.  She let him.  Their relationship was dysfunctional, Stephanie knew.  Worse, it was unhealthy.  Despite the fact that he claimed he loved all of her now, their relationship was still started on a venomous rapport that involved murder and rough sex.  Her own growing tolerance of his attitude toward innocents was also beginning to scare her a little.  The fact that it _only_ scared her a little was frightening.  Sure, she wrangled him a little, keeping him from murdering Katie.  But the girl was still a vampire now.  She couldn’t stop him from terrorizing Davina at the festival.  Dark thoughts began to settle; what if Sabine was right?  What if their son became a mass murderer – with parents like them, it was certainly possible.  Probable, even.

“Perhaps.”  Klaus answered her question teasingly, unaware of the heavy things she was thinking about.

But it wasn’t her obligation to be Klaus’ conscious.  That was his responsibility.

But she felt obliged, considering she was literally lying down with the devil.  If she could influence him just a bit – be merciful . . . there was a side to him that was kind.  Sympathetic.  Was it so bad that she had to be there to keep that side alive?  Probably.

Like she said, unhealthy.

“We’re having a son,” Stephanie whispered in the darkness.

Klaus’ mouth ghosted on her neck, and his bottom lip dragged across her skin as he tilted her head toward him.  “A son?”  He sounded breathless.

“Yes.”  A little boy with curly blonde hair and vibrant green eyes, maybe.  Or with dark waves and sharp blue eyes, like Damon.  

“A son,” He repeated, this time with something like reverence in his tone. Klaus moved his head so it was resting between her breasts and his hands cradled her hips.  She curled her arms around his waist.  “I won’t touch a hair on his head.  Not with malice in mind,” He said suddenly.  “I won’t be like Mikael.  I’ll never be Mikael.”

“No,” Stephanie agreed quietly.  “You won’t.” 

She wouldn’t let him.

.

.

.


	4. i knew you were trouble when you walked in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you want more of this  
> we can push out, sell out, die out  
> so you'll shut up and stay sleeping  
> with my screaming in your itching ears.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: A lot of this chapter is exposition. I’m sorry!

Stephanie's raged licked her insides and heat broiled in the pit of her belly as she strode up the battered pavement leading to Sophie Devereoux's restaurant.  Her converse sneakers smacked loudly against the ground, in tandem with her faster-than-normal heartbeat.  Sweat caused by the sweltering sun and clinging humidity, gathered at her brow and the back of her neck.  Stephanie had been receiving stares as she'd made her way through the quarter, on account of the vicious curl of her lips and the dark look in her intense eyes; they continued to watch her progress to the front door of the restaurant. 

Her phone vibrated.

Clad in a soft summer dress that just concealed the growing bump on her belly, Stephanie strode through the entrance of Sophie Devereoux’s restaurant, kicking the door in.  It swung back and ricocheted off of the stone wall behind it with enough force to shake the glasses on the shelves and slammed shut behind her.   Sophie, carrying a large cardboard box of miscellaneous glasses and tableware, looked up and flinched. 

The witch had looked up at the noise and her lips formed a soft 'o.'  "Stephanie."

“I think it’s time we had a talk,” Stephanie snapped.  Her slim fingers darted back and turned the sign in the window from OPEN to CLOSED.  “Now.”

Sophie licked her lips and slowly set the box down onto one of the tables.  She took a step forward and brought her hands around to her front, palms up in a sign of submission.  “Listen, Stephanie –”

“You had a deal with Klaus,” Stephanie reminded Sophie sharply.  “He’s taking down Marcel – dissembling his army of _vampires_ – and you’re helping us protect this baby; that was the deal.  While Klaus was handling his end, you took me to your one of your witch friends where she tried to _kill_ my _child_.”  Her lip curled.  Fierce, protective anger was roaring in her belly.

Sophie jerked her hands back and pointed them at her chest.  “I had nothing to do with it, I swear.  You and I are linked, remember?  Anything bad happens to you, happens to me.”

Stephanie pressed her lips together and pretended to consider Sophie’s statement while a wave of relief hit her at the same time; the witches didn’t know the spell had been lifted yet.  “Then who exactly was that?”

“Agnes is a part of a group of extremists,” Sophie quickly explained.  “Sabine isn’t, she was just there because I asked her.  She had that vision about the baby and Agnes flipped out and called the members of her group to eliminate the threat.”

“Just how extreme is this faction?”  Stephanie asked.  “Elijah’s talking to Davina, trying to get her onto our side.”

Sophie straightened and her eyes widened.  “Elijah’s talking to Davina?”  She repeated.  She ran a nervous hand through her hair and then heaved a long sigh that spoke louder than words.  “She’ll certainly have a lot to say about Agnes’ crowd.”

“Like what?”  Stephanie leaned forward.  “I need to know what we’re dealing with, Sophie.”  _I need to know how to protect my son._

“I . . . wasn’t always an advocate for the witches,” Sophie started hesitantly.  “My sister was devoted to the craft, just like our parents had brought us up to do.  You have to understand, they were incredibly strict and it drove me crazy.  I left the Quarter to travel . . .” Sophie rolled her lips together as she considered her words, “and to play.  But I wanted to be a chef, so I came back here.  The day I came back, my sister found me with some friends and said that the elders had decided to go through with the Harvest.”

Stephanie’s brows bunched together and she crossed her arms over her chest.  “What is that?”

“A ritual that my coven performs every three centuries to maintain the bond to our ancestral magic.  We appease our ancestors and they keep the magic flowing through us and the city.”  Sophie shrugged a little.

“What does this ‘Harvest’ involve?” Stephanie asked warily.

Sophie winced.  “That’s where it goes downhill.  It involves young witch sacrifices.”

Stephanie’s face turned stony.  “That’s revolting.”

Sophie licked her lips.  “I thought so too.  They had the girls in our community begin preparing months in advance.  They said that it was an honor, that they were special.  Honestly, I thought it was a myth.”

“Was it?”  Steph’s voice was sharp, cold.

“It seems so,” the witch replied, "

especially considering that none of the witches came back to life like they were supposed to after they died.”

“After they were murdered,” Stephanie corrected.  Sophie’s head bowed.

“After they were murdered,” the witch conceded.   “Of course, there’s always the possibility that the girls won’t be resurrected until they’re all dead . . . which would include Davina.”

Stephanie rolled her lips and turned her back on the witch.  She had to concede that Sophie had had nothing to do with Agnes’ plot the previous evening.  In the front pocket of her dress, her phone vibrated again, this time indicating a voicemail message.  Stephanie turned back to Sophie to find that the witch hadn’t moved an inch.

“Thank you for speaking with me.  I’m sorry about the confusion . . . and about Davina.  Maybe Elijah will be able to help her.”

Sophie snorted and turned back to her box.  “Yeah, right.”

Stephanie slipped out the door of the restaurant and slipped her phone out of her pocket.  The screen flashed, telling her she had one new message from Caroline Forbes.  As she walked down the street, she lifted the phone to her ear and listened. 

And the more she listened, the more she realized that there was something seriously wrong with Whitmore College.

.

.

.

Elijah watched the girl sketch on her canvas.  Charcoal, he noted absently, seemed to be preferred medium.  She was a pretty girl, but also intelligent and quick-witted; a good potential ally.  From the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of a violin.  It was in poor condition, broken.  With deft, gentle fingers, he picked it up and cradled the instrument in his hands.

Elijah cleared his throat, causing Davina’s head to swivel around.  “Do you play?”

She rolled her lips together.  “It’s not mine.”  He accepted her answer with a nod of his head, and found a seat at one of the lonely wooden chairs in the church attic.  Elijah lifted the violin to his chin to inspect it, for he’d learned a very long time ago to play and care for them, but a noise started both the witch and the original.  Davina shot him a significant look and Elijah placed the violin down and flashed to stand behind the door, quiet and stoic.

Marcel bounced into the attic.  “Hey D, guess what?  I’m moving you out of this dusty place.”  He gave her a luminous grin that Davina eagerly returned.

“Really, when?”  She nearly squealed in her delight, making Elijah wince at the pitch.

“Tonight, but I gotta get some things in order first.”  Marcel ambled over to the coffin and his grin turned into a leer.  “How’s our original doing?”  He moved to open up Elijah’s ‘final’ resting place, but Davina interceded.

“Don’t disturb the body; I have the spell in progress.”

Marcel backed up and shoved his hands into his pockets.  “I bet you do.  Listen, D; pack up only the essentials, okay?  I’ll buy you anything you need.  I’ll be back tonight.”  He slipped out the attic door, shutting it behind him and it revealed Elijah once more.

Curious, he stepped away from his spot next to the wall.  “You didn’t tell him I was awake,” he observed.

Davina shot him a coy glance.  “We’re not done talking yet.”  She returned to her canvas and settled in a stool in front of it.  Elijah followed her, picking the violin up again as he went.  “Marcel is my family,” Davina said quietly.

“And yet he delights in terrorizing the witches.”  Elijah put a hand to rest onto the canvas.  “Witches, who, as I understand, are your blood family.  You’re okay with this?”

“Yes,” Davina said simply.  “They deserve it.”

Elijah tilted his head, intrigued and surprised.  “Why would you say that?”

“They’re liars.  They made me and my friends do this Harvest ritual.”  She grimaced.  “They said our participation would bring health and strength to our coven, that we would forever be celebrated as saviors.  But all they really wanted was more power.  So I left before they could get it.  And now they’re running out of time and getting desperate.  Because after the Harvest is the reaping, and if there isn’t a Harvest, there won’t be a reaping; then they would lose their power and eventually cease to be witches all together.”

Elijah’s eyes narrowed.  “What does this ritual require to be finished?”

“I have to die.”

“Would you mind enlightening me?  What do you mean?”  Elijah sat carefully still in the wooden chair, gently tuning the violin in his hands.  He began tweaking it, slender fingers sliding in and out of the instrument, repairing it.  Davina was standing with her back turned to him, fingers playing with the creases of her bed spread.

“That’s what the Harvest was.”  She lifted her head and looked at him with cool eyes.  “They said that the four girls chosen would be in this state of peaceful limbo, reawaken, and then be reborn.  Since I didn’t die, the Harvest wasn’t completed.  If I don’t die son, it’s over.”

“And then what?”  He lowered the violin to his lap.

“They’re punished and I’m free.”  Davina smiled, showing off blindingly white teeth.

“From Marcel?” Elijah asked.

“From magic; all of our power will drain away and I’ll be normal.”  Her gaze was a little distant, presumably caught up in her fantasy.

“Is that what you want?”

“I just don’t want to be what I am.  I can’t control it sometimes.  The magic.  I . . . hurt people.  Even when I don’t mean to.”  Davina’s face crumpled at the mere thought, or perhaps of a memory of hurting someone close to her.

Elijah made sure his voice was soft and reassuring.  “Can you tell me about your friends?  You must miss them.”

“There’s Tim; he doesn’t know anything about this witch stuff because he’s normal.  That’s his violin, actually.  He’s a wonderful player.”  Davina smiled a little sadly.  “There’s also my best friend, Monica; she was a part of the Harvest too.  She was lucky, you know?  No one ever fought for me, but her Aunt Sophie fought for her.”

Elijah furrowed his brows.  The witches’ lives were intertwined in ways they hadn’t even thought about.

“No one but Sophie even questioned it, not even my own mother.  We just . . . accepted it.”  Davina clenched her hands into fists.  “We were so stupid.  We were fools, thinking we were special.  They led us out like princesses on the night it happened and I remember my mother was _so_ proud.  One of the elders called upon the past magic to bind our magic together; earth to connect us to our ancestors, water to heal the community, wind to carry us to our ancestors and back, and fire to purify.  We knew what to expect, or so we thought anyway.  All that needed to be done was a little cut on our palms for the blood sacrifice.  Only it wasn’t just a cut to the hand, it was a severed neck with a butcher’s knife.”

“Everyone involved in the ritual knew this would happen?”  Elijah was disgusted.  Violence to children was so cruel and unnecessary.

“Everyone but the four of us.  They weren’t putting us to sleep, they were slaughtering us!”

“Yet you survived . . .”

“Yes.  Marcel saved me.  And he’s been protecting me ever since.”  Davina sat onto her bed and smoothed out the bottom of her dress.  “But that’s not all.”  She met Elijah’s gaze.  “Every girl who died transferred her power to the girl next in line.  When I received the power and didn’t die, the magic didn’t go back to the ancestors.”

“So the Harvest was actually working?”

“Something was working,” Davina corrected sharply.  “But they lied to us about killing us, how was I supposed to believe them when they said we’d be resurrected?  I just didn’t want to die.  So I let him save me.”

They were silent for a few moments, until Elijah stood and extended the violin out to Davina.  “I have restored it for you; it can now be returned to its rightful owner.”

Her mouth dropped open in surprise.  She sounded choked up as she said, “I don’t even know if I’ll see him again.”  The attic began to shake and tremor; the wooden panels on the window flew off.

“Davina,” Elijah said quietly, concerned, “this power is too much for you.”  The tremors stilled.  “You need to learn how to control it.”  He looked at her intently.  “That requires study and practice.  My mother was a very powerful witch, you see, and she had a grimoire with all of the spells she had acquired and created.  My brother has it.  It contains all of the tools that could help you learn to control your magic.  If you release me, I can give it to you.  However, if you leave with Marcel today we’ll never see each other again and I won’t be able to help you.”

“The witches manipulated me.  You know how that ended.”

“This isn’t manipulation; this is an exchange of one thing for another.  I’m offering you a deal.”

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Kol saw her sitting at the bar with a bottle of something strong at her elbow that had been almost entirely drained.  Her tumbler was curled in her right hand.

“Mind if I join you, darling?  I’m feeling a little lonely.”

Katie looked up with bloodshot eyes and waved a clumsy hand at the stool next to her.  She hiccupped.  “I never knew vampires could get drunk.  Thierry never said.” 

“Yes, well, they like to keep some secrets from the witches, especially debilitating ones like this.”  Kol winked.  He waved at the bottle.  “Do you mind?”  Katie shrugged and down the rest of her glass.  The original snatched her glass and poured himself a bit.  “Thanks.”

She took another look at Kol and narrowed her eyes.  “You lied to me,” Katie accused.

“Whatever do you mean?”  He smiled innocently.

“You said you were a witch, but I remember you compelling me now.  You’re a vampire.”  She drunkenly jabbed a finger into his chest.  “You’re Klaus’ brother, an original.”  Katie hiccupped again.

“Yeah, well, it happens.”  He swished the amber liquid around his tumbler.  “People lie all the time in this world, darling.  Get used to it.”

“I lost Thierry because of you,” Katie hissed.  She put a hand to Kol’s shirt collar and dragged him down to her face.  “You made me do it.  If you hadn’t, Thierry wouldn’t be in the Garden right now, rotting.”

Kol detangled himself from the baby vampire’s grasp.  “Come on, I’m sure it would have happened eventually.  He probably would have wanted to turn you and I imagine that’s probably against another one of Marcel’s rules.  Really, you should be pissed at him, not me.”

“I am,” Katie assured him as she snatched back her glass.  She filled it to the brim.  “I am.”  The new vampire turned away from him and continued drinking in silence.

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry to have hurt you,” Kol admitted.  “I don’t care for hurting witches.”

“Yeah, well, you did.”  Katie slammed down the tumbler and stood, swaying on her feet.  She staggered away toward the ladies restroom and Kol declined to follow.  He pursed his lips and then ordered a drink.

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“Klaus, my man, what brings you to Auggie’s today?” 

Klaus offered Marcel a tight smile.  “I heard you frequented this God awful bar and decided to lower my standards in order to visit with you.”  He walked to the bar and pulled out one of the squeaky stools to sit on.

“Don’t be so harsh,” Marcel harangued.  “The people here at Auggie’s are genuine.  They like me, I like them . . . they give me information on the people that pass through the joint when my eyes are otherwise occupied.”  Klaus only hummed in response and ordered a scotch.  He rested his fingers in a steeple on the bar and gave Marcel the side-eye.  Marcel noticed.

“What’d you want to talk about?  Did something happen?”

“A few things did happen, actually.  One, you promised that you were going to return Elijah.”  Klaus gave Marcel a significant look.  “Or has your young witch friend grown fond of his company?”

“You’re pretty curious about Davina, aren’t you?”  Marcel knocked back his drink and sent Klaus a sly glance.

“She’s an all-powerful sixteen year old witch that you’ve stashed in the church attic, Marcel.  Of course I’m curious.  By the way, Kol found her again.  He says she’s lovely.”

Marcel scowled.  “Nosiness runs your family.  I still don’t know how he found her in the first place, let alone for the second now.  You wanna tell me?”

Klaus smiled.  “Not particularly, considering you refuse to tell me much about your little witch.”

“You’re never going to get her, you know,” Marcel taunted, spirits lightening suddenly.  Klaus only hummed.  “You said you had a couple of things on your mind.  What else?”  Klaus pulled a sour face; sometimes he felt like he and Marcel were on a seesaw.  He went up, Marcel went down, Klaus went up, Marcel went down . . . and on and on. 

“The witches went too far last night,” Klaus muttered.  “They tried to kill the baby.”  He’d been doing a bit of thinking.  If the witches were going to reengage on their end of the deal and instead actively try and hurt the baby, and the spell was already lifted from Stephanie, then he wasn’t going to be stifled by their rules anymore.  He’d do this his way. 

Marcel furrowed his brows.  “You should’ve figured they’d try something sooner or later.  Listen Klaus, the witches think they’re big stuff here and they’re willing to do some . . . questionable things to get what they want.”  He beckoned Klaus forward and hunched his shoulders.  “I never told you how I met Davina.  There’s this ritual called the Harvest they’ve been trying to perform.  It involves the sacrifice of these teenage girls.  They killed all of them . . . except for one.”

“I’m guessing the last girl was Davina?”  Klaus rolled his lips.

“Yes.  One of the other girls in the Harvest happened to be Sophie Derveroux’s niece, a friend of Davina’s.  Sophie tried to stop it, even went to Father Kieran, the leader of the human faction here in the Quarter.  He tried to help too, but one of their witches got revenge on him quickly enough; Sophie told me that they put a hex on his nephew that made the kid lose his mind, all in a bid to keep Kieran occupied.  It worked too, obviously.  The kid went postal, you know?  He killed all of his seminary peers and then himself.  Kieran was so messed up that he left before the Harvest even happened.  He came to me first though, and told me to make sure it didn’t happen.  By the time I got there, only Davina was alive.  So I took her, helped her.  I felt like she and I were kindred spirits." 

It would be more difficult to get Davina away than Klaus had initially thought.  “What’s the point of this little story?”  He asked, pretending to be disinterested.

“The point is, Klaus, that these witches are crazy, and you better be prepared for them to come after your baby again, because I can guarantee that they’ll try.”  He leant forward and lowered his voice.  “Also, I wanted to make it perfectly clear that I care for Davina a whole lot and that what we have is complicated.  I protect her from all possible threats, including you if necessary.  You hear me?”

“I hear you, loud and clear.”  Klaus sipped his drink.  Didn’t mean he was going to listen.

“I’m heading out, alright?  I’ve got some . . . business to attend to.”  Marcel tipped his head and slipped out of Auggie’s before Klaus could protest.  “I’ll call you later.”

The hybrid rolled his lips together.  Then he got up and pushed in his own stool, following after his friend.

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“I just witnessed the most interesting thing.”

“Oh?” 

Klaus hummed and kissed the junction between Stephanie’s shoulder and neck.  “Marcel and his friend, Father Kieran, had a loud argument in the church about who exactly was the boss of the Quarter.  We learned that sweet Cami, you remember sweet Cami, is the good Father’s niece, twin brother to the boy who went crazy and killed a bunch of kids and then himself due to a witch’s hex.”

“That’s fascinating.  And I learned today that Sophie had nothing to do with our baby’s attempted murder.”  Stephanie relaxed in Klaus’ side as they sat together on their home’s porch.  In front of them, the large green yard sprawled on for what looked like forever in the dark.

“So I won’t get to kill her?”

“Not tonight.”

“Please refrain from murdering anyone else in the Quarter, brother.  It’s distasteful and tacky.”  Stephanie and Klaus lifted their heads up to look at Elijah strolling toward them, still dressed impeccably in his pristine suit.  “Since we are all sharing our day’s successes, I would like to tell you that I made a deal with Davina.  She let me go and I will be loaning her Mother’s grimoire.”

“Have fun prying it from Kol’s cold, dead fingers,” Klaus called teasingly, in an attempt to get over his surprise at seeing his brother.  “I was in the process of bargaining with Marcel to get you back, you know.”  It wouldn’t do to let Elijah think Klaus had intended to leave him with their enemy.

“Of course you were.”  Elijah took a seat on Klaus’ other side and placed his hands on his lap.  “Do you happen to know of Kol’s whereabouts this evening?”

Klaus and Steph exchanged glances.  “Haven’t seen him all day, actually . . . which, come to think of it, is suspicious,” Klaus mused.

“No need to fret, darlings!  I’m safe and sound.  Though it nice to know that you missed me.”  Kol jumped down from the roof and landed in front of the trio, a smirk curled on his lips.  “Elijah, brother, how nice to see you up and about again.  Now all we need is for Klaus to undagger Rebekah and for Finn to grace us with his presence, and then we’ll be a big, happy family again.”

“Where have you been?”  Steph asked dryly.  “Out terrorizing innocents again?”

“Not today.  I was just here and there.”  Kol shrugged and put his hands into his pockets.

“Well, Kol, where’s the grimoire?”  Elijah cut to the chase.  “It’s important that I hold up my end of the deal.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist.”  Kol rolled his eyes.  “I’ll give it to you, but have one condition though.”

“I’m the one who gave _you_ the grimoire, remember,” Elijah reminded him sardonically. 

Kol ignored him.  “I want it back when she’s done.  This is a loan.  Considering I’m the last Mikaelson with any magic at all and it is a Mikaelson grimoire, I should have it.  Besides, in a town like this, it’s best to make sure it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

“Deal.”  Elijah said.  Kol saluted.

“I’ll just fetch it from my room then, I suppose,” Kol drawled.  He disappeared into the house, with Elijah following close behind.  Then it was just Klaus and Stephanie again.

Steph cleared her throat.  “Everyone is Mystic Falls is getting suspicious.”  She turned her head.  “Caroline left me a message about a friend of hers going missing and then showing up again as a vampire.  He was turned by one of the professors at Whitmore College and that’s not the only odd thing about it; she said he was craving vampire blood.”

“Just like my father,” Klaus breathed.  He put his hands onto her shoulders.  “What happened?”

“Jesse – her friend – attacked Caroline and was going to kill her.  Something in Elena snapped and she turned her humanity back on.  Then she killed Jesse to protect Care.”

“What caused him to crave vampire blood?” Klaus demanded.

“The professor experimented on him,” Stephanie explained, “or that’s what Jesse told them, which they were inclined to believe.  Elena confronted the Maxfield – the professor – and he threatened, told her to leave Whitmore.”

“Bloody hell, I hate scientists.”

“Obviously Elena didn’t listen because she stubborn.  I have a really bad feeling about this school, Klaus.  I think I need to go and check it out soon.  Then I could explain what’s going on down here in person after we figure out what’s going on.”

Klaus grabbed her hand.  “I’d rather you didn’t involve yourself, but knowing you, you’re going to anyway.  Just . . . wait, love.  See what happens first, and then go.  If it turns out to be something big, I’d rather go with you or send Kol at least.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Steph snapped.

“No, but clearly your friends do, or else they wouldn’t need you to come up there and fix their messes,” Klaus pointed out sharply.

“They’re my friends and my family and I will always help them clean up their messes, Klaus,” Steph replied, “and anyway, it’s not like this is any of their faults.”

“I apologize for breaking up your conversation,” Elijah’s voice rang out in the night air, starling them both, “but there is something else that we must discuss.  It’s important.”

Steph and Klaus exchanged glances.  “Later, then,” She said to him.  They rose together and went inside to find Kol and Elijah already seated in the living room.

“What’s the emergency?”  Klaus drawled as he settled into the loveseat next to Stephanie.

Elijah rose and faced them.  “Everything Sophie told us was fabricated.  The French Quarter, this war that’s brewing . . . it’s not over territories, it’s over Davina.  Sophie wants to complete the Harvest –”

 “– in order to get her niece, Monica, back,” Klaus finished.  The others gave him surprised looks.  “Marcel happened to open up about the Harvest today as well.”

“So they’ve been manipulating you all this whole time.”

“Eight months ago, Jane-Anne and Sophie lost everything,” Elijah continued.  “Because Marcel was guarding Davina, they needed someone powerful enough to overthrow him, which brought them to Klaus.”  “But how to get the original hybrid to cooperate?”  Elijah asked rhetorically.  “Take something that he values.  And everyone knows about the hybrid and the ripper’s torrid love affair.  It was just a matter of semantics then.”

“And what, they figured a child would seal the deal?”  Stephanie’s brows furrowed.

“Well, if you weren’t enough leverage, the witches thought that Klaus had to have enough of a heart to care about his own flesh and blood child at the very least.  We thought we’d come here to wager war for power.  Instead, it’s for family.  Sophie will risk her life to kill Davina to bring back Monica, and that makes her the most dangerous of them all.”

Kol stood.  “So, who wants a drink?”

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tbc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am incredibly sorry for the extreme lateness of this chapter. Initially, my interest in the show had dwindled, but just as it rose again, my computer stopped working. I’ve just gotten it back with a repaired graphics chip, so I am good to go! Also, I’ve saved all of my material in alternate places so if it breaks again, I’ll still have my outlines and such.
> 
> Thanks for being patient and I hope you enjoy the chapter!


	5. see I’ve come to burn your kingdom down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Seal my heart and break my pride  
> I've nowhere to stand and now nowhere to hide  
> Align my heart, my body, my mind  
> To face what I've done and do my time.”

“You’re at sixteen weeks; you entered the second trimester a couple of weeks ago, Miss Salvatore.”  The jelly was cold on her skin as the ultrasound wand glided over her curved belly.  The image on the machine was of a small baby curled into itself, thumb firmly planted in his mouth.  “You really should be seeing someone more often than you are.”  The obstetrician’s voice made it clear what she thought of Steph’s sporadic check-ups.

“There’s a reason you were flown in at night,” Stephanie murmured wryly.  In order to keep the human faction out of their business and the witches away from them, Steph had found a doctor out of the Quarter and Klaus had gotten them to the Mikaelson Compound with their equipment to check out the baby’s progress.  After the afternoon’s appointment, the good Doctor Henley would be compelled to forget and sent back to her home in northern Louisiana.

“Is it the boyfriend?”  Doctor Henley asked, “Because I can take you with me when I leave.”

“It’s not him,” Steph reassured her absently.  “Don’t worry about it.”  Her eyes were riveted to the monitor, staring at her son.  She hadn’t felt him move in the weeks he’d been with her, but Steph knew from her own research that she might not get to for another month.

Doctor Henley sighed in exasperation, but turned back to her work.  She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.  “He’s healthy and in the next few weeks he’s going to double his weight and grow quite a few inches.”  She turned off the monitor and tossed Stephanie a towel to wipe off the jelly.  “I really do recommend more doctor visits, however.”  Doctor Henley sniffed and turned away to pack up her things.

“Thank you for your time, Doctor Henley.”  Stephanie cleared the gel off her abdomen and pulled down her shirt.  She waited until the doctor had cleared up her supplies from the spare room before tipping the doctor’s head so she could meet her eyes.  “ _You’re going to forget this visit.  You’ve never heard of me or Klaus Mikaelson.  You will get on a plane and fly back to your home and say you were on a vacation.”_

Doctor Henley blinked and turned around, pulling her equipment on its cart straight out the door and to the van waiting for her.  Only when the dust settled from the vehicle’s departure did Stephanie return back to the house.  She rubbed her forehead with her hand, feeling a bone deep sense of lethargy weigh down on her body.  When Steph looked up, she found Klaus leaning against the door to the kitchen.  He was gazing at her with a glint of something unidentifiable in his bright blue eyes.

There was a moment of comfortable silence that settled between them before Klaus cleared his throat unnecessarily.  “Did the good doctor say whether or not the vomiting would cease?”  His arms were folded warily across his chest.

“Some women experience it until the end,” Stephanie explained, “but most don’t.  I expect it to stop soon.”  She hoped, anyway.  Throwing up blood and the occasional snack was wearing on her.

Klaus was in her space within the blink of an eye, slender fingers caressing her shoulders.  His mouth next to her ear, he whispered, “Good, because I like kissing you without the smell of regurgitated blood on your breath.”

Stephanie arched an eyebrow in amusement.  “You could just not kiss me.”  She brushed past him, heading toward the living room.  It was decorated with antiquities and still smelled strongly of the musk of a building that had been uninhabited for several years.  She settled onto the couch and watched as Klaus strolled in after her.

“Not an option,” He drawled, picking up the conversation again.  “The temptation would drive me _mad_.”  Klaus leant over the back of the couch, caging in her back.  Stephanie hummed.  “I have something to tell you.”  He was suddenly serious and Stephanie twisted around to look at his face.  “I’m going to release Rebekah.”

Steph rolled her lips together.  “Really?  Not that I’m not all for free will and getting to live your life outside of a box, and all.”

“It’s come to my attention that we’ll appear stronger if we present a united front.  The first time I came to the French Quarter, it was with Rebekah at my side, ever faithful.  This time, she’s in a box.”  He gave moved to crouch in front of the sofa.  “Do you know how that looks?  It looks like mutiny in our ranks.  If I release her, we’ll have four Originals in the Quarter instead of just three.  Maybe the witches will think twice about an attempt on the baby’s life again.”

There it was; the real problem.  It showed in the tightening of his facial features and the way his fingers curled into the fabric of his antique couch.  The debacle with the witches was still fresh in both of their minds.

“There’s a little problem with your plan,” Steph said dryly.  “Rebekah hates your guts.  What makes you think she’ll deign to help, let alone stay for a ‘show of force’?  For all you know, she’ll help the witches.”

Klaus’ lips thinned.  “She won’t.” 

“You sound confident about that.”

Klaus gave her a haughty smirk that belied his true feelings.  “She won’t help the witches because before Faye Chamberlain, there was Marcellus Gerard.”  Then added offhandedly, “And she likes you.”  His phone began to ring.  Steph slipped her fingers into Klaus’ pocket and slid the phone out.

“Hello?”

Kol’s cheery voice answered her.  “Sophie’s been taken by the witches and was brought to the cemetery.  They’ve done something to her – injected some kind of poison into her system.   It appears that they’re trying to abort the baby through the now-nonexistent link between you two.”

“Bloody hell.”  If he’d held the phone, it would have been crushed to dust.

“Thank you.”  Stephanie licked her lips and felt an overpowering sense of relief that Kol had his magic.  If he hadn’t disconnected her from Sophie Devereoux, her baby could have been dying at that very moment.

“I’m just looking out for my nephew.”  Kol ended the call.

Klaus let go of Steph and collected his phone before spinning on his heel.  He strode out of the living room, only taking a second to holler, “I’m waking Rebekah!”  He disappeared around the corner and Steph’s own phone buzzed in her pocket.  Expecting Caroline or maybe even Elena, she opened the text.

MARCEL IS ONTO KLAUS.  HE KNOWS YOU’RE NOT STAYING AT THAT HOTEL AND HE TALKED TO THIERRY.  WATCH OUT.  – josh

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Klaus slipped the dagger out of his sister and slid it into the pocket of his jacket; best to keep temptation away from his sister when she woke and thought to extract a little petty revenge.  While it wouldn’t put him down, the dagger would certainly hurt if shoved into his heart.  He set his attention back onto Rebekah and her grey, lifeless face.  Her eyes were open, gazing emptily at the ceiling, colorless.  She truly looked dead.

“Forgive me, sweetheart,” He whispered and let his finger glide tenderly across her cheek.  Elijah and Kol would be surprised, but ultimately pleased when they returned from their little teaching session with Davina in the church attic, for their baby sister would be among them once more.  Rebekah would find Kol to be an irritant, but a manageable one.  She’d be relieved to see Elijah.  And as for Klaus . . . well, he was certain that Elijah would be able to talk some sense into her.

Until then, Klaus had a bit of business to attend to with the witches that thought they could get away with attempting to murder any of his family’s numbers.  While the baby had gone unharmed, it was the thought that counted, and that was what Klaus focused on.  There was a creak on the hardwood floor, which caused him to turn away from his sister’s body.   

Steph stood in the doorway.  “I know you’re going after Sophie.”

“Don’t try and stop me, love.”  Klaus brushed passed her, and didn’t let his mind linger on the sensation of the touch.

Stephanie grabbed his wrist and he felt electricity.  She forced him to meet her determined gaze.  “I’m not.”

Klaus smiled.

Sophie was easy enough to find, what with Kol’s spy work, and they made fast work of getting to the crypt, despite it being midday.  Inside and chained to the back wall was their witch, who was immensely surprised to see them.  Sophie’s dark eyes widened almost comically and her mouth dropped open.

“Thank God!”  She cried and her body drooped against the stone.  “Agnes injected me with something our ancestors cooked up.  It’s a cursed object called the _Needle of Sorrow_ ; it raises the body temperature and will cause a miscarriage and believe me, it will work.  I saw Agnes use a similar object to curse the Priest’s nephew to make him go crazy.  You should already be feeling the effects  . . .” She trailed off, taking a good look at the two for the first time.  “But you look fine.”  Her brows bunched together in exhausted confusion.

“Agnes keeps trying my patience.”  Klaus prowled forward like an animal on the hunt.  “Where is she?”  He demanded.  “Where can we find her?”  The veins beneath his eyes darkened on his pale skin and his irises turned bright gold.

“You won’t,” Sophie said flatly, “because there are precisely a hundred places she could be hiding to wait this out.”  She turned to look Stephanie over, focusing on the baby bump settled on the vampire’s belly, visible through her shirt.  “How are you still okay?”  Her confusion had turned to suspicion.  “You should be feeling _very_ uncomfortable right now.”

“We broke the connection between the two of us weeks ago.”  Stephanie crossed her arms.  “I don’t trust you with my life, let alone my baby’s.”  She nodded at the witch’s chains.  “And for good reason.”

Sophie’s jaw dropped.  “You can’t do that!  The connection was my _only_ leverage on you.  We had a deal!”

“Our deal expired when you lied to us,” Steph snapped. 

“Where did you find a witch to perform the spell?”  Sophie asked sharply.  “No one in the Quarter would have.”  Her fists clenched in their restraints and she shook her wrists roughly, causing the chains to rattle in the otherwise silent crypt.

Steph ignored her question.  “Tell me how we can get into contact with Agnes.”  She was startled when Klaus put a hand onto her shoulder. 

“I’ve just had a thought, love.”  Klaus sounded thoughtful.  “Sophie said that Agnes was the one that cursed Cami’s brother . . .” His lips curled into a nasty smile.  “And I know a party that will be quite interested in hearing that bit of information.”

“Father Kieran.”  Stephanie realized.  She moved forward and snapped Sophie’s chains, surprising both Klaus and the witch.  Steph grabbed Sophie’s elbow and gave her a warning squeeze.  “Listen.  We don’t owe you anything.  Don’t come near our home or any one of our family again, and everything is settled.”  She dropped the witch’s arm.

They left Sophie standing in the dark crypt as they made their way to the church.  As they approached its ornate doors, Klaus picked up on some of Steph’s unspoken anxiety.  “They probably won’t notice the baby,” He said quietly.  When she gave him a firm look, Klaus’ eyes wandered back to the curve of her belly.  He amended, “Well, they’re not going to immediately assume that you’re pregnant with the Original Hybrid’s child.  It sounds preposterous.”

“It’s just that this kind of exposure is what we’ve been avoiding by flying in a doctor from a different county.”  She wanted to keep the humans out of their business to avoid any confrontations or God forbid experiments.

“No one’s going to figure it out.  Of course, you’re welcome to stand out here and wait,” Klaus suggested.  She knew that he knew that the probability of that was low.

“Not likely.”  Stephanie licked her lips and she opened the double wide doors to the Quarter’s least popular church.

Together, they heard Father Kieran say, “What is this, an electoral debate?  Marcel overstepped; I’ll handle it.”  He was standing in his Priest garments and addressing a small crowd of humans of various public service stations including police officers and city officials, who were all settled in the pews.  They turned around at the sound of the doors bursting open.  Kieran looked uninspired at their arrival. 

Klaus smoothly interjected himself into the conversation with all the grace a thousand year old man with centuries of experience in politics could.  “Easier said than done, mate.  Marcel is quite the little warrior.”  One of the police officers rose and approached with a gun in one hand and a baton in the other.  He raised the gun but Stephanie’s hand snapped out and caught his wrist.  His face twitched with a spasm as she tightened her grip enough to bruise, but not break, his arm.

“I wouldn’t,” She suggested.

“Who the hell are you two?”  An elderly man in the pew asked grouchily.  He half rose from his sitting position as if to fight them off.

“My name is Klaus,” Klaus introduced with a smirk, “this is Stephanie, and you all must be _the faction_.”  He swaggered up to stand at the end of the room and turned around to face them grandly, arms spread as if welcoming them.  “The pillars of the community that maintain the city’s supernatural balance.”  He looked wistfully up at the ceiling and then back to Kieran.  “I should know; after all, I created this group.  Although,” he said thoughtfully, “when I was around first, the faction was made up of pirates and corrupt politicians.”

Stephanie deadpanned, “I don’t think it’s changed much.”

Kieran stepped up, tension lining his body.  “Actually, it has.  Now the faction is run by humans only; no vampires allowed, and especially no _Originals_.”  The group – the faction, rather – tittered in their seats at the mention of ancient vampire race.

Klaus laughed good-naturedly and addressed Stephanie, “Can you believe them, love?  They think we want to join.”  He grinned.  “No, rather, we’ve come to utilize its considerable resources to find a witch elder called Agnes.”

“Why exactly would we want to help you?”  Kieran asked reproachfully.  “We don’t work for you, Klaus and none of us give a damn about your desires.”

“Should you tell him or shall I?”  Klaus teased to Kieran’s displeasure.

Stephanie didn’t want to waste time with Klaus’ grandiose games.  “Because Agnes is the one that hexed your nephew,” She said. 

“Sean, was it?”  Klaus drawled, clearly enjoying himself.

It appeared he was right; Kieran’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he visibly swallowed.  He caved.  “We’ll need some time to deliberate, of course.”

Unfortunately, it wasn’t quite the answer Klaus desired.  “I do not enjoy waiting!”  The hybrid shouted, voice echoing in the cavernous church. 

“Listen here, Klaus,” Kieran demanded, his confident regained, “You may have all the vampires in town cowering in fear, but right now you’re dealing with the humans.  And unless you plan on killing all of us, you’ll do what I saw and give us time to discuss it.”

Klaus’ anger mercifully bled away.  He laughed.  “You know what I like about you, Father?  You know of my reputation and yet you refuse to kowtow.”  Klaus smiled.  “You have one hour.”  He brushed passed Kieran and Stephanie released the police officer’s wrist.  As soon as the church’s doors closed, Steph paused.

_“I want this witch found,_ now _.”_

_“For the vampires?”_

_“For me.”_

Stephanie sent Klaus a satisfied look, making the hybrid smirk.

“Even the good Father can’t resist a little old fashioned revenge.”

And then, they waited.

.

.

.

Eyes slid open and fingers twitched before curling into loose fists.  Her whole body felt stiff and sore, like she’d gone three rounds with her brothers and then stuffed into a deep, dark hole.  Rebekah blinked rapidly and found herself staring at an arched, high white ceiling.  Slowly, she leaned up into a sitting position and pulled her hands into her lap.  Her mind felt like a blank canvas and so she scrambled to remember her final thoughts before being daggered – for she had clearly been daggered – and what was she missing?

Faye.

Rebekah’s face crumbled and she curled her arms around her knees and keened sorrowfully.  Faye was dead, courtesy of Katherine Pierce, and Rebekah had been daggered to be kept out of the way by _Klaus_.  Her breathing turned ragged.

“Why, hello, dear sister; it’s good to see you wake up from your nap.”  Rebekah’s head snapped up.  Kol was leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest and a smirk planted firmly on his lips.  “You’ve missed quite a bit.”

Rebekah’s nostrils flared.  “The only thing I missed,” she said, voice hoarse, “is time that I could have been spending searching to find the bitch that killed by girlfriend.”  She rose from her coffin and slid out of it.  She straightened her clothes.  “But first, I’m going to find a way to make Klaus’ life difficult for betraying me.”  Her gaze dared Kol to tell on her.

But her brother only widened his smirk.  “Oh, I won’t say a word.”

“Good.  If you do, the next time I see you I’ll rip your tongue out.”  Rebekah ran a hand through her hair.  Then she stalked across the room and flung open the door.  She gasped.  “Marcel?”

Kol tilted his head.  “Oh dear,” he murmured, grinning.  “This looks this could be a problem.”

“Rebekah,” Marcel breathed.

.

.

.

“You thought that we wouldn’t notice you trying to leave on your own?”  Klaus drawled.

“You’re early.”  Kieran looked disgruntled to have been found out.  He gave them the stiff upper lip and his body tensed.

“Good thing, too,” Stephanie said quietly, “because it looks like you’re trying to leave without us.”

“Especially considering you’re so hell bent on exacting revenge all on your lonesome.  But unfortunately, we need an audience with Agnes before you send her to her maker.  So let’s make a deal; you bring Agnes here and your lovely niece will stay out of this mess.”  At Kieran’s alarmed look, Klaus smirked.  “Oh yes, I know Cami.  Lovely girl you’ve got there.  It would be a shame if she were to get hurt.”

Stephanie stayed silent, but she knew she wouldn’t be letting any harm come to Camille if Kieran didn’t cooperate.

“Fine,” Kieran sighed.  “I’ll call her.”  He turned with his back to them and had a quick, murmured conversation with Agnes, explaining that their meeting place had been changed.  “She’s close,” He said when he turned around.  “She’ll be here –”

“Now.”  Klaus grinned.  Stephanie turned and saw Agnes being pulled into the church by two rotund, balding police officers, loudly complaining.  They shoved her into a pew.

“What’s the charge here, exactly?”  Agnes protested.  She locked eyes with Stephanie.  “I didn’t do anything wrong.”  Steph rolled her lips together. 

The police officers nodded at Kieran and excused themselves.

“Don’t play games with me, Agnes.  You’re the leader of the witches; who do you think runs everything else?”  Kieran nodded toward one of the police officers and he stepped forward with something wrapped in a light blue cloth.  Kieran lifted the cloth away.  “I believe this is what you were looking for.”

“Yes, that’s what Sophie described to us,” Steph said quietly.  Agnes tilted her head and her stare intensified. 

“You made a deal with them,” Agnes said evenly, her voice conveying her anger.

Kieran took two large steps toward her and pointed sharply at her chest.  “After what you did to Sean, I’d deal with the devil just to see you suffer,” He hissed. 

Agnes stood.  “As you said yourself, Father, I am the leader of the witching community and if you hurt me, the entire witch community will turn against you!”

“Enough!”  Klaus shouted and the church fell silent.  “Enough.”

“We don’t care about witch politics and we don’t care about your little harvest ritual,” Klaus explained almost friendly.  “We care that you tried to kill our baby, multiple times now.  We particularly care that you tried to curse him with this ancient artifact.”  He lifted up the magic needle.

“What do you mean, I _tried_ to curse him?”  Agnes narrowed her eyes at Stephanie’s belly.  “It didn’t work?”

“It worked so far as it’s affecting Sophie,” Stephanie reassured her coldly.  “But luckily for us that we broke the link between her and me weeks ago right under your noses.” 

Agnes scowled.  “Your devil child is going to be the end of the witches.  I have to get rid of it before that happens.  It’s only a matter of time before I succeed.”  The ends of her lips twitched suddenly.  “Or maybe someone else will do it for me; you both do have an endless list of enemies.  If word were to get out of the Quarter . . .”

Stephanie flashed to the witch’s side and wrapped a hand around her neck.  She squeezed.  “Do not touch my family again or it will be the last thing you do on this earth,” She hissed into the Agnes’ ear.  “And I _will_ make sure you go out screaming.” 

“Nicely put, I think,” Klaus said.  Stephanie’s fingers remained on Agnes’ neck, but Klaus strolled forward anyway.  “You’re a piece of work, Agnes, but I’m a bit of work myself.  You know earlier I was thinking about artfully arranging pits of you outside your family’s tomb to leave a message.”

“Change your mind?”  Agnes choked.

“Now I’m thinking the Ripper should do it instead.”

There was a creak of the steps behind them.  “I thought I heard a ruckus down here.”  The church’s occupants turned their heads to find Elijah appear in the back of the church. 

“Elijah,” Agnes croaked.  “The honorable brother.”  She cackled.  “Will you let them kill me?”  The church was silent as Elijah strolled forward and observed the little scene in front of him.

“You keep trying to hurt my family.”  There was a pause.  “I’m not going to stop them.”

“This is going to hurt you much more than it’s going to hurt me,” Steph promised Agnes.  Her fangs descended and she ducked her head into the witch’s neck. 

Agnes screamed.

“I think I should take the good Father home,” Elijah announced.  He put a hand onto Kieran’s shoulder and steered him away.  “Are you coming Klaus or are you going to stay to enjoy one of your fantasies come to life?”

“I’ll catch up with you at home,” Klaus murmured.  “I think I’ll stay with Stephanie and Agnes.”  Elijah and Kieran disappeared.

Steph disengaged her fangs from the witch’s neck and let the woman drop onto the pew again.  Agnes gasped for air and her hands reached up to staunch the bleeding of her wound. 

“Monster,” Agnes growled.  “That’s all you beasts are.  You’re going to condemn your child to a life where his parents, uncles, aunts are all vicious, blood-sucking monsters.  You’ll raise him to be one of you and then he’ll be the next bogeyman witches tell their children about –”

Stephanie plunged her hand into Agnes’ chest cavity and dug her fingers into her heart.  She squeezed.  “Don’t talk about him,” she whispered.  She let go of Agnes’ heart and tore her hand back out and watched dispassionately as the witch seized on the floor.  Then Stephanie reached out and tore Agnes’ head from her neck.  It rolled across the floor like a basketball.  “We’re done here.”

Stephanie stepped out of the church and headed into town with Klaus following behind.  “I texted Elijah, asking him to clean up the mess in the church.  I’m going to stop by and speak with Cami,” He murmured into her ear.  “Care to join me?”

“I’ll wait outside,” She said curtly.  He hesitated when they reached the bar, but stepped inside without her.  Steph heard the ensuing conversation, but didn’t have the energy to confront Klaus about it at the moment.  She’d make him leave Cami alone tomorrow.  They walked together down the Quarter’s main street only to be stopped by Marcel.

“Hey, man, where you been?”  Marcel greeted.  He waved at Stephanie.  “I hope you’re not still mad.”

“Water under the bridge,” Klaus replied with a shrug.  “I’ve forgotten what we were upset about.”

Marcel’s grin was blinding.  “That’s good.  Hey, I stopped by your place today to commiserate over drinks and you weren’t there.”

Stephanie heard something quiet behind her and turned her attention away from the conversation.  Someone whispered down the alley.  She furrowed her brows and stepped away from Klaus and Marcel.  They whispered again.  “Help me.”

She followed the voice into the dark.  “Hello?”

Hands grabbed her, one over her mouth and the other over her belly.  “Don’t move,” the voice hissed.  Then he snapped her neck.

Klaus barely noticed when Stephanie had stepped away.  “Ah, the Palace Royal didn’t suit me,” He said easily, trying to allay further questioning from Marcel.  “We moved on weeks ago.”

Marcel’s pleasant grin stayed in place.  “No, no.  I mean your . . . _other_ place.”  Klaus felt his gut turn to lead.  “Interesting location to put down your roots, you know, considering it was the same place I where I was a slave.  Guess that’s why you never invited me over.”

“How rude of me,” Klaus said tersely.  “I’m sure Elijah would love to host you and Davina some evening, especially after you were so hospitable to him.”

“Good.  I look forward to it.”  Marcel clapped a hand onto his shoulder and walked around him. 

“Stephanie, we need to go.  We need to make sure he didn’t take Rebekah.”  There was no response.  He furrowed his brow.  “Steph?”  Klaus spun around in a circle, but he heard nothing.  His heart clenched.  “Love?”  He stuck his head down a nearby alley but found nothing there.  Klaus turned back to the empty street.  “ _Stephanie_!”

.

.

.

Stephanie woke up to find herself in the back of some kind of truck with a window just above her feet.  She kicked out sharply, cracking it.  The car swerved, knocking her around in the back.  When she tried to brace herself, Stephanie discovered there were chains on her hands.  She licked her lips.  The witches couldn’t have found out about Agnes already; she’d barely been dead an hour.  So who else had the motive?  Marcel?  The truck slowed to a halt and the driver slammed his door in order to stalk around to the back.  Stephanie blinked owlishly as the black door opened to reveal Tyler Lockwood.

“Tyler?” 

“You really don’t want to fight me, Stephanie.”  Tyler bared his teeth into a snarl.  “You know how much stronger I am as a hybrid.”  He reached into the car and grabbed her around the middle.  He hauled her out and she struggled viciously.

“What the hell are you doing?”  She snarled.

“Shut up,” He hissed back and threw her over his shoulder.

“I can get some duct tape,” A new voice suggested.  Stephanie turned her head.  Hayley Marshall saw her looking and gave her a little wave.  “That should work.”

“You bitch.”  Stephanie’s nostrils flared.  “What do you want?”

Tyler shook her.  “Klaus took something from me so I’m going to take something from him.”  Of course, Stephanie thought as she rolled her lips together.  Get rid of one enemy just in time for another one to show up.  She really should have gone to check things out at Whitmore College; surely they were having fewer issues than in the Quarter.  “My mom is dead because of that son of a bitch,” He continued.  “So Hayley and I have been making some friends.”

“Did you know that my family originated from here?”  Hayley asked conversationally.  “Tyler and I found them.  And they’re very eager to take back their city.”

“They were also pretty informative about what’s been going on,” Tyler added.  Stephanie saw a little wooden cabin up ahead next to a lake and a clearing.  “Including this.”  He put a hand to the baby and Stephanie thought, God, why was there already another threat to this innocent child so soon after Agnes had been taken care of?  “We have a working theory that since the kid is part hybrid, maybe we can make more hybrids with it.”

“You need the doppelganger’s blood for that,” Steph rasped.  “You kidnapped me based on a half-assed theory that you didn’t even think through.  Elena’s a vampire now.”

“But the baby isn’t entirely hybrid, so why should it follow the rules of nature?”  Hayley countered.

“Just because he’s more vampire than werewolf doesn’t mean that the same rules don’t apply,” Stephanie snapped.  Tyler’s hands were tight around her, bruising her skin.  He kicked open the door to the cabin and slung her onto the floor next to a cabinet.

“I guess we’ll just have to experiment then, won’t we?”  Tyler growled.  He turned to Hayley and jerked his head.  She nodded and disappeared out the door, while Tyler pulled over a knapsack from the bed.  He yanked out a little box and flipped it open; inside was a needle and several vials.  “I hope I find the kid on the first try, considering our plan goes to hell if I kill accidentally this thing.”

For the first time since she’d been grabbed, Stephanie felt fear.

.

.

.

tbc


	6. there is a house in new orleans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And I'm a Goddamn fool, but then again so are you  
> And the lion's roar, the lion's roar  
> Has me seeking out and searching for you  
> And I never really knew what to do.”

“Well, this _is_ exciting.”  Kol nimbly maneuvered through the large crowd gathered around in a circle in the middle of the courtyard under the dark sky.  Marcel’s home was filled with what must have been nearly all of the vampires of the city, and they were occupied watching two nightwalkers fighting in the center.  One of the opponents was a woman of average height, who had bulging muscles in every visible part of her body.  The man she fought with – and was clearly beating – was a large, bald man who could have been a bodybuilder in his past life.  All in all, Kol thought it was good entertainment, and the crowd of vampires clearly agreed with him, for their raucous cheering could be heard blocks away.  Kol noticed Klaus’ little nightwalker mole on the other side of the fight and winked at the kid, making him flush and look down. 

“There’s Marcel,” Elijah’s grim and proper voice said in the midst of the chaos. “Watching up on the balcony, pleased as could be.” 

“Not for long,” Klaus swore as he pushed his way through the throngs of vampires.

“Aw, come on, can’t we at least enjoy the show for a little while?”  Kol complained.  His brothers were frantically worried about Rebekah and Stephanie, who were both missing.  Of course, Kol knew that Rebekah had disappeared with Marcel of her own free will, but he’d rather take a front row seat and watch their reactions when they found out, rather than be victim to a temper tantrum because he’d let her go without a fight.

He watched as Klaus at least waited until the woman had defeated the man in the center of the ring – and she was clearly very excited about her victory as she was all smiles as she threw up her hands joyously – before stepping up behind her and snapping her neck with the flick of his wrists.  The crowd was uproarious in their protests and Kol had half a mind to join in, but Klaus began screaming for Marcel.  His eyes were flashing gold, a clear sign that he was monumentally pissed.  Elijah was extra composed in his iron Dolce and Gabbana suit, his lips thinned into a fine line of disapproval.

Marcel, in contrast, had been grinning ear to ear until Klaus had snapped his vampire’s neck.  “What can I do for you gentlemen tonight?”  His bright composure dimmed.  “I’d ask if you’d care to join the festivities, but it looks like murder is on the agenda tonight instead.”

“Good evening,” Klaus said pleasantly.  “I’d like a word.”  His lips pulled into a smirk as he sauntered forward, and Kol and Elijah finally pushed their way out of the resistant crowd.

“What do you think you’re doing, Klaus?”  Marcel’s vampires immediately quieted when they heard the Original’s name spat out like something distasteful.  They’d heard of him, then. 

“It appears that we’ve interrupted a collection of filthy amateurs,” Elijah drawled.

“Cut them a break,” Kol interjected cheerfully.  “I love a good bunch of filthy amateurs; they’ so much more fun than people with sticks shoved so far up their asses that they don’t know how to slouch.”  When some of the crowd snickered, he knew that would earn him some shoving around when they returned to the compound.  Or before that, Kol thought, as Elijah sent him a pointed glare.  He sent his elder an amused smile.

“We’ve come here for Rebekah and Stephanie . . . if you do not comply, we will kill everyone here, starting with you.”  Elijah raised a steady hand and pointed right between Marcel’s eyes.  A few disgruntled vampires hissed at the threat, and no one was snickering anymore at Kol’s insolence.

“You three got a lot of nerve to come into my home and make demands,” Marcel said sharply.  He braced his body onto the wooden rails on the balcony; his hands were spread apart as he leant forward and made eye contact with the three of them, one at a time.

“ _Your_ home?”  Klaus growled and Kol could almost taste his fury in the air.  Elijah put a hand to his bicep to calm him, which Klaus shook off and glared at irritably.

“The girls!”  Elijah hissed up to Marcel.  “Where are they?”

“I have no idea where Stephanie is.”  Marcel shrugged, seemingly careless, but Kol saw a glint of scheming in his eyes.  “She’s a _little_ too high maintenance for me.  Rebekah, though . . . I’d say she’s worth the effort.” He leered.

“What have you done to Rebekah?” Elijah demanded urgently, lips pursed in his fervor. 

“I haven’t done anything to her,” Marcel denied.  His eyes narrowed and genuine anger lit up behind his gaze.  “Not like you people, who shoved a dagger into her chest a _gain_ and left her to rot in a coffin for months.  She’s getting real tired of your shit, Klaus, and so she decided to join the winning team this time.”

“Where is she?” Klaus clenched his fists.  “Rebekah!”  He shouted.

“Don’t get your panties into a twist.”  Kol’s – and his brothers’ – heads jerked.  There she was, their baby sister; she’d cleaned up since her stay in the coffin, putting on a beautiful, casual blue dress and some black heels.  Her hair hung in straight curtains around her face and there was something in her blue eyes that suggested malice was on her mind.  “I’m right here, no thanks to you, Klaus.  Elijah.”  When Kol’s name was purposefully left out, his brothers glared at him.

“When she threatened to rip my tongue out, I decided I’d rather keep it for some other . . . pleasurable activities,” Kol said dryly. 

Rebekah smiled satisfactorily.  “I wanted to tell you myself that I’m cutting myself off from the family.  Kol was just being a kind older brother.”

“Rebekah, wait a moment –” Elijah said softly.

“No, Elijah,” She interrupted.  “I’m done.”  There was steel in her tone.  “I love you, but I’m through with always being your second choice, and being stuffed into a box whenever Klaus decides he can’t handle dealing with me.  I had to make a choice between someone who wanted to give me the world, and those who would betray my trust.”

“Sister, you’re being ridiculous,” Klaus angrily snapped.  He took a step forward and glowered.  “You think Marcel’s going to treat you better?  You think he’s going to treat you like a little _princess_?”

“Yes,” She cried.  “And about this not being his home, well, _I_ say it is.  It belongs to me, him and the empire.  Now get out.”  The brothers were well and truly speechless; Elijah was horrified and Klaus enraged.  Kol found himself entirely too amused with the whole ordeal to bother getting upset.

“What about Stephanie?”  Klaus asked tightly.  “She’s gone and I know you had something to do with it.”

“I didn’t take her.  If you don’t believe me, look around.  Hell, we’ll help you find her,” Marcel smoothly answered.  There was a lilt of teasing in his voice.  “You should ask yourself this though; if she isn’t here, then where is she?”  He let them simmer in silence for a moment before waving a hand at the tables that had been pushed aside for the fighting match.  “Take a seat.  I’ll be with you in a moment.”  He turned to his vampires and shouted for them to break up the ring and to put the furniture back, and damn it, would someone turn the music back on?

“Not the most attractive community, are they?”  Elijah asked as they settled at one of the round tables.

“I don’t know,” Kol mused as his eyes wandered the crowd of vampires.  “I see a few I wouldn’t mind taking for a spin.” 

“Don’t be vulgar, Kol,” Elijah sniffed, though Klaus appeared highly amused.

Klaus drawled, “You do realize they can hear you, Elijah?” 

“You do realize I don’t care?”  Elijah returned, just in time for Marcel to overhear as well as Rebekah and a couple of his friends.  His smile was fake as he pulled around a fourth chair for Rebekah.  She continued to stand, so Marcel slung a foot to rest on the seat.

“Elijah,” Marcel said cheerily, “I sincerely hope that you know I preferred it when you were in a box.”

Rebekah’s lips pinched together.  “He daggered you as well, then, did he?”

“It was a . . . misunderstanding that we’ve since overcome,” Elijah explained smoothly.  Rebekah snorted and Marcel smirked. 

“You my sire, I owe the world,” Marcel steered his attention to the hybrid, “and I always show respect to my elders.”  His eyes twinkled.  “Well . . . some of the time.  See, the perfect thing to help you find your lost sheep is a witch, and since I own the witching community, I’ve caught someone to aide you.”  He snapped his fingers and two vampires dragged Sabine out in the courtyard.  Kol sighed and resisted the urge to say they didn’t need a witch.  He’d rather not chance someone trying to drain his power in the Quarter, especially considering how purist these particular witches were being.  He was mildly surprised the Rebekah hadn’t already ratted him out.  

“She’ll do a locator spell for you.”  Marcel flourished his arms.  “Have fun and good luck.  I do have a city to run and nightwalkers to get to safety before sunrise, after all.”  He turned and left Sabine, while gathering his crew with him.  Rebekah lingered for a moment.

“Rebekah, sister,” Elijah murmured, “please stay with us.”

“Yes, sister, do stay with us,” Klaus grunted acerbically. 

“Why?”  She demanded.  Rebekah put her hands onto her hips.  “So I can help you take over New Orleans?  Because that’s obviously the plan.”  She rolled her eyes.  “What happens when I get under your skin?  Dagger me again?”  She placed a hand onto the table leant forward, fire in her eyes.  “Never again.”  She sent Kol and Elijah sharp looks.  “You two should leave Nik to himself too, because it’s only a matter of time before he tries to stab you in the back as well.  Again.”  She turned.  Kol mused to himself that while his sister did in fact have a point, he wouldn’t be taken by surprise by his brother ever again either.  His magic would see to that.

“Walk away and you’ll live to regret it, sister,” Klaus warned.  “Your betrayal _won’t_ be forgotten!” 

Rebekah paused for another moment and when she turned to look at Klaus, there were tears in her eyes.  “You didn’t let me grieve for Faye.  You took that choice away from me, Niklaus.  I’m through with you.”  She walked away, head held high.

.

.

.

“Where are we?”

“The armpit of Louisiana,” Tyler replied with his voice full of disgust.  It was clear that the humidity and swamps were not to this Virginia boy’s liking.  He’d put the needles and vials back into the knapsack for the moment; he’d clearly intended to scare her, but there must have been something that he wanted first.  And so, true to form, he pulled out a knife.  Tyler advanced on her place sitting on the wooden floor.  Something fluttered in Stephanie’s stomach.

“Are you going to cut my head off?”  Steph asked sharply.  “That would defy the purpose of using my baby’s blood, you know.  I die, he dies.”  She pulled her knees up to shield her belly.

“No, but that would be ironic, wouldn’t it?  To cut your head off.”  Tyler grabbed her wrists and used the knife to tear off the duct tape.  Stephanie pulled her hands back as soon as the tape was cut and rubbed them.  She was thankful they hadn’t used any vervain. 

“This cabin and property surrounding it is one of the only things left that my family has.”  Hayley crossed her arms.  “To clarify for you,” She added when Steph sent her a thoughtful look.  “We found out that they used to be something like royalty around here, my old pack.”  Hayley’s nose wrinkled in disgust as she added, “That is, until they were persecuted and then cursed to wander the Bayou as wolves.  Some bitch inverted the curse on them; now the only time they’re human is on the full moon.”  She rolled her lips together.  “The witches and vampires run things now.”

“But not for long,” Tyler promised.  He was pale like he hadn’t fed in a while, with dark circles beneath his eyes along with something wild in his gaze as he looked at her.  He licked his chapped lips and turned his back on her to pace in short, tight lines.  Stephanie scooted across the splintered hardwood floor until her back was resting on the cabinet behind her.

She clenched her hands and met Tyler’s crazed eyes.  “That’s right, you’re planning on making a hybrid army with my unborn baby’s blood and no doppelgänger,” Stephanie said scathingly.  “Well thought out plan, truly.”  The front door to the cabin creaked open and she jerked her gaze from Tyler to the newcomer, a werewolf undoubtedly. 

“This is Dwaine,” Tyler introduced.  He roughly clapped a hand onto his back.  “He’s a friend we found on our search for Hayley’s family and he was interested in our cause.”  Tyler turned to Steph and his smile was something out of a horror film in its demented pleasure.  “He’s going to help us determine whether our hypothesis is correct or not.”

“You’re a pathetic excuse for a scientist,” Stephanie snarked, “and this is a pretty unsanitary environment for an experiment.”  Her purposefully let her eyes wander to point out the dirt, dust and garbage that had accumulated in the years the place had been unoccupied.

“We take what we can get,” Hayley snapped.  She looked a little better than Tyler; while his obsession with revenge had made him unkempt, Hayley appeared as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders at meeting her family.

Stephanie tried to reason with Tyler.  “Tyler, think about what you’re doing.  If you do this, I _will_ kill you, no matter what Caroline or Elena or Matt or any of your friends think and it will have been done in self-defense.”

“You think I’m afraid of you?”  Tyler snorted derisively.  “Do you think I’m afraid of death?  No.”

“Dwaine,” Hayley summoned and their werewolf friend stepped forward.   She pulled out a large needle from their kit and Tyler moved to stand behind Stephanie.  He yanked her arms behind her back and pulled her up to her knees. 

“We’re ready.”  Tyler nodded.  Stephanie’s heart raced in her chest and panic came to the forefront of her mind unbidden. 

“You can’t do this,” she hissed and struggled.  The werewolves and hybrid ignored her and Hayley came forward with the needle.

“Just think of this as an amniotic fluid test,” Hayley suggested.  “Now hold still or else I might hurt the fetus.”  Immediately, Steph held her body still; Tyler’s strength was much greater than her own and so her chances of escape were nil, and the last thing she wanted was to hurt her baby.  “There’s a good girl,” Hayley crooned as she lifted Steph’s shirt.  She inserted the needle into Steph’s abdominal wall, and the vampire rolled her lips together furiously.  “See, I’m taking out some of the amniotic fluid as if I were going to test the fetus for Down syndrome or something.  But instead of testing it, we’re going to inject it into our friend Dwaine.”

“Hopefully, it’ll turn him into a hybrid,” Tyler murmured.  “If it works, we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other in the future, Stephanie, because we’re going to need your kid to build up our army.”

Steph’s eyes were glued to the needle that was fast filling up with fluid from her body.  Hayley pulled it out when it looked like she’d gotten all she needed.  “There,” The werewolf said with a smile, “that wasn’t too bad.”

Her stomach fluttered and Stephanie began struggling anew to get out of Tyler’s grasp.  “Let go of me, now,” she snapped and Tyler did so, letting her crumple to the floor.  Her eyes narrowed as she watched Hayley find a vein in Dwaine’s arm and injected the fluid into his system.  Dwaine’s eyes closed.  Then Tyler snapped his neck. 

Steph worked her jaw.  “Don’t get all judgy,” He warned.  “Dwaine volunteered for this.”

“He’s not going to wake up,” Steph said sharply.  “And even if he does, you need a doppelgänger to finish the transition.  What is it that I’m saying that you’re not understanding?”

“We’ll see,” Tyler said smugly.

“You know, while we were on the road, we ran into a witch.”  Steph turned to look at Hayley sitting on the bed.  “She was having nightmare visions about some kind of man killing every single witch he came across.  He’d rip off the heads and desecrate the bodies, leaving them for their families to find.  It was a warning, you know?  He was the alpha.”  She barked harsh laughter.  “It was your baby, all grown up.”

“Stop.”  Her heartbeat thundered in her ears and the fluttering her stomach was almost distracting.  Steph’s hands moved to rest on him protectively.  “Shut up.”

“What?  You can’t handle the truth, Stephanie.  You and Klaus created a monster.”

“None of that has happened and won’t ever, because I won’t let it,” Steph argued.  “You’re both sick.  He’s just a baby.”

“Maybe,” Tyler said.  “Maybe not.  The witch we talked to said that Klaus is planning on raising a hybrid army with your kid’s blood.  We decided to see if it could be done, and if possible, beat him to the punch with our own force.  Dwaine here was a proud volunteer; he couldn’t wait to be a part of a higher species.  If you hadn’t noticed, these people don’t have much to live for in the bayou, and they’re interested too.  The only problem is that all hybrids are sired to Klaus and he’d control their every move.”  He pulled out the knife again and slammed it onto a table.  “To answer your question about the doppelgänger blood, we have a solution; we feed Dwaine some of your blood.  What we figure is that since the kid isn’t Klaus, the whole doppelgänger curse thing doesn’t apply.  But if a new hybrid were to drink the baby’s blood, or yours, since you’re carrying him, it should finish the transition.”

Steph felt horror and disgust for this former classmate of hers.  Was this really the boy that had gone to school with Caroline, Elena and Bonnie since kindergarten?  Was he one that played football with Matt and crushed on Vicki?  He’d always been a dick, especially to Jeremy, but she’d thought him particularly malicious.  This surpassed even his stunt in Mystic Falls with the hybrids, which had been a bit understandable.  This was something else though.

“Where the hell do you get off at assuming that Klaus wants to raise an army from his only child,” Stephanie spat.

“Come on.”  Tyler tilted his head.  “This is Klaus we’re talking about; killer of men, women, and children and anything fluffy,” He spat scornfully.  “You really think he all of a sudden wants to be a daddy?”

“I think that you have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steph retorted.  “You have known Klaus for what?  Maybe a year of your life.  Me?  I met him in the 1880s, you d _ick_.  I think I know him better than you when I say that he’s not capable of hurting his own unborn child.  And if he was, _I_ would stop him.”

“That’s a nice sentiment,” Tyler said quietly.  “But that’s all it is, a sentiment.  You could never keep Klaus from getting something he wants.”  There was a heavy silence in the cabin that was only interrupted by erratic hearts. 

Then, Dwaine surged up from across the room, gasping.  Tyler smiled.  “Just in time.  Feed from her.”  He flicked his hand at Stephanie and Dwaine wasted no time at all; he launched himself at her.

Steph used her strength to rip the ropes off of her feet and dove for Dwaine’s feet, bowling him over.  She leapt up and flashed out of the cabin, only to be caught in the transitioning werewolf’s arms as he flew out after her.  She felt what her own victims must have felt for a moment as his face came in close and his teeth tore into her neck.  Steph could feel her blood being taken from her, something that was entirely unpleasant when not experienced with a loved one.  She shoved him off of her and onto the ground, but found herself back in Tyler’s grip while Hayley went to check on the other werewolf.

“Well?”  Tyler shouted.

Hayley laughed.  She turned her head, smiling brilliantly.  “I think it worked!”  She scooted back as Dwaine staggered to his feet dizzily, smiling around the bloodstains on his lips.  Dread filled Stephanie as Tyler manhandled her back into the cabin.

“We’re going to spend a lot of time together,” Tyler said into her ear, “from here on out.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Stephanie growled.  “You know what I said to him?”

“What?”  Tyler asked for his own amusement.

“Rot in hell, bastard.”

.

.

.

Josh sat alone in the bar at a small round table, eyes riveted to some of the other nightwalkers playing beer pong.  They looked like they were having fun, he thought whimsically. 

“You could always join them, you know.”  Josh looked up to find Marcel looming over him.

“Ah, well,” Josh mumbled, “drinking games aren’t really for me.  They remind me of the jocks in my high school; it had a quota of what would you call them?  Uh, douche nozzles.”

Marcel chuckled. “I wonder what would happen if you saw those guys if you saw them now?  You’d probably tear them apart.”

Josh shrugged a little awkwardly and tried to find the appropriate response.  “Yeah, uh, probably go all vampire ninja on them, huh?” 

“You’re a funny guy, Josh.”  Marcel beamed at him.  “You want to know something else funny?”

“Sure?”  Josh looked at him questioningly.

“The fact that I saw you at the plantation where Klaus is staying.”  Marcel’s smile turned into a flat line.  Josh’s heart leaped into his throat and he spun around to find one of Marcel’s other guys standing behind him menacingly.  “You going somewhere Josh?”

He swallowed thickly and put his trembling hands into his lap.  Shit, he was going to die, wasn’t he?  “N-no, Marcel.”

The older vampire leant forward.  “Good, because we need to talk.  Tell me why you were there, Josh, and this will go a whole lot easier for you.”

“That’s easy,” a new, accented voice interceded.  “He was looking for me.”  A man about Josh’s height pulled out the chair next to him and dropped into it.  Josh chanced a look at the vampire’s face and found that it was the same one that had been with Klaus and Elijah at the fight earlier.  Kol Mikaelson.

“Oh?”  Marcel tilted his head, eyes locked onto Josh.  “Is that so?”  Kol hummed and put his hand onto Josh’s thigh, sending shivers up his spine.  Josh swallowed thickly.

“Uh, y-yeah.”  He nodded his head sharply.

“Why is that?”  Marcel asked softly.  “My people aren’t good enough to be your friends, Josh?”

“W-well, you know those douche nozzles from my high school?  They ridiculed me because I was gay,” Josh said quickly.  Marcel’s brows went up as he made the connection and his dark eyes darted between Josh’s thinned lips and Kol’s Cheshire cat grin.  Kol leant over and kissed Josh’s neck, making his bones turn almost to jelly.  This was certainly a surprise.

Marcel’s eyes were narrowed, but he seemed to accept the lie at face value.  “I wish you all the best, then.”  He stood and inclined his head, recalling his lackeys.  To Josh’s disgruntlement, Kol’s hand remained on his thigh.

“Thanks,” Josh muttered.

“Ah, well, got to keep my brother’s spy from being found out, don’t I?”  Kol breathed into Josh’s ear.  “I’ve got to secure our interests and that includes keeping you from being killed.”  He squeezed Josh’s thigh and then smoothly stood up and excused himself.  “See you later, darling.”  He winked and disappeared out of the bar.  Josh let out a simultaneously relieved and befuddled breath of air.  He blinked and found many of the bar’s occupants looking at him.

“What?  You’ve never seen a gay vampire before?”  He barked out defensively and the chatter resumed.  Josh sighed and face-planted onto the wooden table.

.

.

.

“And this is where I leave you,” Sabine announced.  Elijah politely thanked her, but Klaus jumped out of the car instead of acknowledging the witch.  “Be careful out here; you don’t know what might be in these woods,” She said as a last parting gift.  Sabine slipped back into her car and slammed the door before quickly driving away in a cloud of dust.

“You could have at least said thank you,” Elijah drawled as he fell into step with his brother.  Klaus sniffed.

“And I could also bite you, but you don’t see me doing that either,” Klaus replied.  He trudged through the undergrowth, nostrils flared out to catch a scent, any scent of Steph’s clothes, her hair or perfume, anything.

“She did drive us all the way out here,” He pointed out.

“Probably to steer us in the wrong direction,” Klaus grouched.

“Come now, Niklaus, I think Sabine is much nobler than you give her credit for,” Elijah continued thoughtfully.  “Besides her vision, she’s been uninvolved in any of these plots, and even that was involuntary.”  He sounded . . . admiring.  Klaus paused in thought before dismissing the idea.  There was no way that Elijah was infatuated with the witch.  He hadn’t been in love for decades . . .

His brows furrowed and his mind went off of Steph for the moment and onto this new interesting puzzle.  “You like her,” Klaus accused.  That was clearly the only thing that made any sense.  Elijah was polite all the time, yes, but there was something in his voice now that unpleasantly reminded Klaus of their time with Katarina and Elijah’s other witch lover so many years ago.

“Yes, I supposed I do enjoy her company a bit –”

“No, you buffoon, you _like_ her,” Klaus snapped.

Bemused, Elijah asked, “Are you a child, Niklaus, asking if I ‘like like’ someone?  Sometimes, you are just utterly preposterous.”  Klaus thought he’d show _Elijah_ what was utterly preposterous, but then he caught a scent.  His brother noticed.  “What is it?  Is Stephanie close?”

“It’s not her,” Klaus thought aloud.  He grinned.  “But it is someone else we know.”  He dove into the underbrush and led Elijah through the woods to another clearing with a large blue vehicle parked in the dirt.  “There.”  Klaus talked forward and threw open the door, fingers scrabbling for any kind of material inside.  He picked up shirts and CDs and bags; all carried the scent of two recognizable werewolves.  “This vehicle reeks of something I thought I was rid of – Tyler Lockwood,” Klaus spat.

“And why would your little sidekick from Mystic Falls want anything to do with Stephanie Salvatore?” Elijah asked quietly.

“Revenge?”  Klaus tossed his arms up into the air.  “I did intend to kill my hybrids that he’d broken the sire bond from and befriended.”

Elijah deadpanned, “Why do I believe that that is the least of your offenses?”

“Back when I was in Mystic Falls and had the means to sire more hybrids, Tyler was my first.  Although I didn’t give him much choice in the matter.”  He smirked.  “He was loyal in the beginning, but then he turned insubordinate and turned the rest of my hybrids against me.  I tried to kill them.”  Klaus shrugged.  “Tyler ran like a coward before I could finish him.”

“Anything else?” Elijah pressed.

“Well there was that business with his mum . . .”

“You killed his mother.  Wonderful.”  Klaus thought that Elijah looked like he was resisting the urge to wring his own neck.

“He needed to be taught a lesson!”  Klaus retorted.

“And what lesson will you be taught when he retaliates by hurting Stephanie?”  Elijah shot back.  Klaus’ fury settled and turned inward.

“We’ll get her back before he has time to retaliate,” Klaus said stiffly.  “I’ll kill Tyler Lockwood myself for taking her.”

.

.

.

Josh wished he could leave the bar behind him, but considering he couldn’t, settled for trying to make himself shrink farther into his jacket.  He’d since moved from his table to a darkened, abandoned corner to nurse a beer in silence while he played games on his phone.

“I find that I’m pretty partial to Candy Crush,” that familiar accented voice said, catching Josh’s attention.

“Huh?”  Josh asked articulately.  He blinked.  “Kol?”

“The one and only.”  The Original lazed in the booth next to the young vampire.  “What are you still doing all by yourself?  Aren’t you supposed to be spying?  Or did I save your arse for no reason at all?”

“Honestly, I think Marcel knows,” Josh admitted.  “I figure that’s what the fuss was about this morning.  I don’t think I’ll be able to get anything good from him anymore.”  Their conversation was so hushed, not a single one of Marcel’s men could overhear.  “And it doesn’t help that he now thinks we’re having some kind of fling.”  He fought of flushed cheeks.

Kol smirked.  “Don’t worry.  If he tries to kill you, I’ll rescue you.”

Josh’s jaw dropped.  “Wait.”

“Hm?” 

“Is this?” Josh pointed a finger at Kol and then himself.  “Is this really a thing?”  He was embarrassed to admit that his voice went up a few decibels.  “I thought – but you – and I –”

“Don’t give yourself a stroke,” Kol drawled.

Josh fell silent.  “Um.”

“No,” Kol said.

“Huh?”

“No, it’s not a thing,” Kol said and Josh barely managed to keep from deflating in relief and admittedly, a little disappointment. 

“So.”  Josh looked at his hands.  “Why are you here then?”

“Keeping an eye on out our interests.”  Kol smiled.

“Won’t Marcel get even more suspicious?”

“You already said he’s onto you.”  Kol shrugged.  “And it will only help your credibility if it looks like we were telling the truth earlier.  Maybe he’ll become less suspicious.  So, what kind of music do you listen to?”

Josh gaped for a moment, full of incredulity that this was actually happening; he was really talking to a vampire that was like millennia old.  “Um, club stuff.  The House, Trents, stuff like that.”

“I find this century’s music fascinating,” Kol mused with his chin resting on his hand.  “It’s all great, especially that – that dubstep stuff.”

Despite himself, Josh smiled.  “You like dubstep?  _Really_?  They play it in clubs, you know.”  He smiled a little to himself.  “I remember when I was sixteen and I’d been to a hundred clubs.  I had a fake ID and me and my friends would sneak in every weekend almost.”  He felt a keen sense of loss, then.  “That was only four years ago; feels like another life.  The only thing I wanted to do was meet boys and now things are so much more complicated.  Now all I want to do now is meet boys, feed on people’s blood and get one of those daylight rings.  All normal things.”  Josh sighed.

“You know,” Kol said slowly from across the table, “I could get you one of those daylight rings.”

“Really?”  Josh’s head jerked up.  “How?”

“I have connections.”

Josh felt a moment of pure bliss, just imaging being able to outside and bathe in the sun again, but it all came crashing down just moments later.  “I couldn’t accept.  Marcel really would be suspicious then and I really would never be able to get any information for Klaus.”

Kol hummed.  “Maybe one day if Marcel doesn’t get you one first, and your cover’s been blown, I’ll find one for you.”

.

.

.

“This is it,” Klaus breathed out, nostrils flaring, full of Tyler’s scent.  He’d finally scented Stephanie a while back, and it was all over this small cabin in the woods.  “How quaint.”

“Is does seem to resemble a home from a fairy tale,” Elijah admitted as he came to stand next to his brother.  “How many do you sense in the house?  I can hear four heartbeats, discounting the baby’s.”

The leaves rustled beneath Klaus’ boots.  “Tyler Lockwood is there, along with someone who might be a werewolf.  There’s Stephanie and another vampire . . .” He frowned.  “The other vampire’s heart rate is very irregular.”

Elijah tilted his head for a moment before nodding.  “Yes, it seems his heart is very strained.  It doesn’t sound good.”

“All the easier,” Klaus grumbled.  “Let’s get Stephanie out of there, now.”

“You’ll hear no protests from me,” Elijah agreed.  They set forward and Klaus took it upon himself to kick down the door.  Inside they could easily see Stephanie being guarded by the strange vampire, while Tyler and his girl – Hayley, Klaus recognized – putting away vials of colored liquid. 

The guard immediately caught sight of him and launched himself onto Klaus, tackling him to the cabin’s dusty floor with a loud crack.  Klaus lost sight of Elijah and the others and wrestled with the vampire.  He met its eyes, intending to verbally spar with him as well, but found himself at a loss for words.  The vampire’s eyes were a solid black and dark blood dripped from his orifices: eyes, nose and ears.  His canines on both the top of his mouth and his jaw were elongated, and a black sticky substance was smeared across his face as he lunged.

Utterly perplexed and a just a mite afraid, Klaus kicked the – the creature over his head and it landed on the front porch.  It spun around and hissed at him like a savage beast and lunged once more, undeterred.  Klaus dove at its stomach, making it fall back, but he found himself unsettled as he felt the utter strength of his opponent.  The vampire had as much power as one of his own siblings.     

But just like one of his own siblings, Klaus was still stronger.  He found his advantage and pressed his knees into the vampire’s stomach before plunging his hand into its chest.  The corpse continued to bleed out black blood, even after Klaus tore his heart out.  He wasted not another moment with the deceased, and he spun around, flashing back into the house to find it in ruins.

Elijah lying on the floor with Stephanie crouched by his side.  Hayley’s unmoving body lay close to the door, which Klaus paid no particular attention to.  “What happened?” He barked.

“Tyler bit him and snapped his neck after I shoved Hayley into the wall with a little too much force,” Stephanie explained harshly.

“Don’t you dare be sorry for killing her after they took you,” Klaus snarled and he strode over to them.

“Don’t tell me what to feel,” She snapped back.  “Help me get him up.”

Klaus came forward and took his brother’s weight, throwing him up into a fireman’s carry.  “Let’s go.  Where’s Tyler?”  His eyes followed her closely as Stephanie searched the little cabin for something.

“He took off.”  She upended one of the little tables angrily.  “Damn it.”

“We’ll get him,” Klaus said grimly.

“No, that’s not it.”  Stephanie waved a hand.  She met his eyes.  “There’s another way to make hybrids.  Tyler and Hayley were experimenting with my blood and the baby’s amniotic fluid.”

Klaus’ brows furrowed.  “That thing out there was a hybrid?”

“Yes.”  She nodded and ran a rough hand through her hair.  “Tyler got some more fluid and blood from me and put it into some vials, which is what I was looking for.  He must have taken it with him when he ran.”

“Come look at something,” Klaus said quietly.  He carried Elijah and led Stephanie to the body in front of the house.  “It was not a hybrid, or at least, not like the ones I made.  He mutated or something, I’m not really sure.  His eyes were black and rivulets of blood were running down his face from his orifices.  He was not a healthy hybrid.”

“More like the failed ones from Tennessee?” Stephanie asked as she crouched down next to the corpse.  Her nose scrunched.  “The blood smells diseased.”

“Worse than the ones in Tennessee,” Klaus said.  “Looks like Tyler’s little experiment was a disaster,” Klaus muttered, making Steph tense. 

“But who knows what will happen if one of these mutated guys bites someone?”  Stephanie asked rhetorically.  “Tyler doesn’t know and now he’s probably going to try and make more.”

“Bloody hell,” Klaus growled.  He couldn’t believe this mess.  “Let’s just get home.  Then we’ll work something out.”  He hefted Elijah a little higher on his shoulders, and waited until Stephanie was by his side before he set out to leave the bayou.

.

.

.

_“Stephanie, everything at Whitmore is insane.  Our professor – Wes – he’s experimenting on vampires!  And I think he’s taken Damon.  I don’t know where to look!  Everyone’s suspicious around here because there’s this secret society called Augustine.  Wes is a part of it.  And so was my dad.  God, Steph, I really need you here right now.  Bonnie doesn’t have any magic and Care and I are freaking out.  Please, please come home, Steph.  There’s never been a time where we’ve needed you more.”_

Bag of essentials packed, Stephanie slung them over her shoulder and sent Elena a quick text telling her she’d be on the first flight to Virginia.  She strode out of her room.  Really, this was a good thing, Steph thought.  Getting out of New Orleans was the best thing for her right now; there would be fewer people trying to single her out to kill her for one.  And Damon needed her help.

“Where are you going?”  Klaus shut Elijah’s door behind him, where his brother was resting as he recovered from Tyler’s bite.  “It’s not particularly safe out there with Tyler running around and God knows who else he’s got on his side.”

“Mystic Falls.  Things just got worse.”  Stephanie rolled her lips.  “Damon’s missing and they need me.  Not to mention, like you just said, things aren’t safe here right now.  I think that with the spell disconnecting me from Sophie, it’s best if I leave for a bit while everything settles.”  She met Klaus’ bright blue eyes.  “I’m trusting that you’ll get rid of those vials when you find Tyler and that we’ll all forget that our baby can make hybrid monstrosities.”

Klaus put his hands on her hips and drew her in for a kiss.  “Of course,” he breathed into her ear.  “I . . . of course.  I’ll deal with Tyler and get rid of the evidence.  I’m going to have Elijah try and reason with Rebekah as soon as my blood finishes curing him.  We need to be a united front right now.”

Steph initiated the kiss then.  Against his lips, she said, “I don’t know when I’ll be home.”

“I’ll tell you when it’s safe,” Klaus promised.  “I have to get our kingdom ready for our family first.”

“Obviously,” Stephanie deadpanned and resisted the urge to roll her eyes.  “Be safe.”

“I think I should be telling you that, love.”  Klaus kissed her forehead.  “I’ll be seeing you soon.”

“Let’s not wait a century this time,” Steph murmured wryly. 

She had a brother to save and some explaining to do in Mystic Falls.

.

.

.

tbc

 


	7. got you shackled in my embrace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When enemies are at your door  
> I'll carry you away from war  
> if you need help, if you need help.  
> Your hope dangling by a string  
> I'll share in your suffering  
> to make you well, to make you well.”

Damon blinked awake, his vision blurry and his head spinning with dizziness.  His fingers scratched dirt, prompting him to roll his head around to figure out where he was.  His back was up against a brick wall and floor was, in fact, hard packed dirt.  The air was damp and Damon could smell the mildew growing on the weeping walls.  There was a brief clanging of metal and the sharp poke of a needle in his forearm, startling him.

Damon squinted and saw a familiar figure stepping away from him and slipping something – likely the needle – into a medical pack.  “What the hell are you doing to me?” His voice was hoarse and it was a struggle to talk.

Professor Wes Maxfield smiled blandly.  “I am injecting vervain to your system to keep you calm.” 

A wave of lethargy swept Damon and he found it difficult to even lift his head.  He settled on squinting and trying to make his voice sound less ill and more threatening.  “Wes, why am I here?”

“I lost a test subject and you’re going to replace him.”  Wes stepped outside of the bars, outside of _Damon’s cell_ , and shut the door with an air of finality.  “It was interesting what you told me yesterday, Damon, about you having been here before.  An escaped Augustine vampire come home; isn’t that almost prophetic?  And since I looked into our records and found nothing, it appears that you must have here before that fire that destroyed almost all of our facilities in the fifties.  Do you know what that means?”

“You have poor filing systems?”

“No,” Wes said, almost sympathetically.  “It _means_ that we get to start all of our tests over.  I do hope you enjoy your stay with us.  Now.  I have a few questions for you.”

.

.

.

Elena found that she was a giant ball of panic and anxiety as she received Steph’s text.  Bonnie and Caroline were class of all places, and had urged Elena to go as well, to keep her mind off of things.  Elena didn’t think she could sit through a single lecture without screaming at someone about her missing boyfriend and so had refrained.  Unfortunately, skipping class left her with plenty of time to obsess and worry about Damon.

Instead of waiting for Stephanie’s plane to arrive, Elena decided to take matters into her own hands.  She was a vampire now, and no longer a naïve one at that; she’d gone through loss and the first – hopefully last – flip of her humanity switch.  Elena had grown, and she could handle herself.  She didn’t need a babysitter and she certainly didn’t need anyone to come to rescue anymore.  So she would look for Damon and hopefully not even need any of the help she’d asked for. 

To do this, Elena decided to ask Aaron.  Wes was his uncle, so Aaron had to know where some of the professor’s research was done: a lab, a basement, anything at all that might make some sense.

Aaron answered the door to his dorm room when she knocked, opening it only into a small crack and regarded her with wary eyes and a day old scruff on his face.  The shadows beneath his eyes and the state of his hair gave her an eye of how he was coping.

“Hi, Aaron,” Elena said softly.  “How are you doing?”  She bit her lip; asking Aaron for help was the easiest thing to do, but also the riskiest, considering his roommate Jesse had been one of his uncle’s experiments gone rogue.  Elena had had to kill him.

“Jesse killed himself,” Aaron said listlessly.  The easiest cover story that would explain his injuries leading to his death was suicide.  “He’s dead, just like almost every other person I care about.  So no, I’m not doing too well, Elena.”

“I’m so sorry.”  She stepped forward with the urge to comfort and to told, but Aaron just stepped back.  He left the door open though, the only invitation she was likely to get.  Since he didn’t own the dormitory facility and she lived just upstairs, she stepped over the threshold into his private space.  All of Jesse’s stuff was still sitting innocently on his side of the room, as if the kind young student would be returning imminently. 

“This place was supposed to be different, you know, a fresh start,” Aaron continued quietly while Elena stood next to his desk by the door, arms folded comfortably across her chest.  “Whitmore was supposed to be somewhere that I could get rid of my past.  It was supposed to help me move on from my family’s deaths.”

“I understand,” Elena said with complete sincerity.  She knew something about new starts and her heart broke a little every time she thought about Jeremy.  Jenna.  Her mom and dad.  “I get it.  After everything you’ve been through a fresh start is pretty appealing.”

“How do you do it?  How do you press the restart button?”  He was hunched over, curled into himself as if to make him and his grief smaller.  Elena wondered if that’s what she looked like when her parents died, or maybe Jenna or John.  Sometimes she curled up still in the dead of night and cried over Jeremy’s life and subsequent death.  If only she had avoided the mysteries of Mystic Falls and all of its entrapments . . .

“I don’t know,” Elena said.  “Considering my problems follow me around too, I guess I’m not really the best person to talk to about this.”  Her only wisdom to impart, she thought, was to stay away from this supernatural stuff and the tragedy that came with it. 

“Well, if you’re not here to talk about Jesse, what are you here for?”  Aaron asked.  His voice, she noticed for the first time, was thick; he’d been crying, she thought, this poor boy.

“Last night you told me that Wes was your legal guardian,” Elena started guiltily.  She didn’t want to upset her new friend anymore but Damon could be in danger and though she did at times regretted getting involved in her town’s messiness, she loved Damon with all of her heart.

“Yeah,” Aaron nodded.  “Since last summer when my Aunt Sara died . . .” He started to giggle a little hysterically.  He shook his head and blurrily met her gaze.  “You see what I’m talking about?  Everyone around me ends up dead.  My sunny disposition makes me so many friends.”  Aaron sighed.  “I’m sorry.  Go ahead.”  He was so kind.  It was awful that he’d ended up living with a psychotic college professor.

Elena bit her lip again and shifted her weight on her feet.  “The thing is, my boyfriend went to go talk to Wes last night and no one has seen either of them since.  It makes me kind of worried, you know?  I’m sorry that the timing is so awful, but I was hoping maybe you would be able to tell me where I might be able to find them.”  She looked at him pleadingly.

Aaron nodded slowly.  “Yeah, yeah I think I know where to look.”  He stood and brushed invisible lint off his pants.  “I’ll take you,” He said to the floor.

“Really?”  She asked.  “Are you sure?  You can’t be feeling very well today.”

“I can’t feel any worse, trust me,” Aaron said wryly in a moment of good humor.  “Come on.”  He took the lead and Elena fell into step behind him.  They walked side by side on campus and for all the world looked like two average young adults on a date or talking about classes or an upcoming party.  Instead, their conversation was far more complex than that.

“I never really took Jesse for being suicidal,” Aaron said a few minutes into their walk.  “It just doesn’t make sense.”

“Do you believe what campus security told you?”  Elena slowly.  She really didn’t want him to find out she’d murdered Jesse in self-defense and she was walking a fine line, but shouldn’t he know that the one person he trusted in his life was a psychopath who experimented on sentient beings as a side job?

“Why?”  Aaron asked.  “Do you know something else?”

She debated with herself for a moment.  Aaron deserved to know the truth about his guardian, even if she’d rather protect him from it all.  “Don’t you think it’s weird that both of your friends committed suicide before the first semester is over?” 

“Uh, yeah I think it’s weird.”  Aaron gave her a strange look.  “Jesse loved it here and he had a massive crush on your blonde friend.  Megan had plans for her life.”

“That’s why none of this makes sense,” She whispered.  “Listen, I found Megan’s body that night and I think she was murdered.  Wes was the one who signed her death certificate, Aaron.  He is a part of something, much bigger than what anyone realizes.”

Aaron was shaken.  “We need to talk to Wes and I need to hear his side of the story before any conclusions are made, okay?  Here.”  He led up the stones stairs to Whitmore House, where Bonnie had gone to find out more information on the strange happenings at their college.

“Oh, I didn’t realize we’d be coming here, to Whitmore House.”  Elena shuffled her feet at the threshold as Aaron unlocked the door and stepped inside.

“Hm?  Oh, yeah, this is where Wes does all of his research.  It’s like a second home.”  Aaron eyed her for a moment, confused.  “Well?  What are you waiting for?  Come in.”  He inclined his head and Elena felt the invisible barrier fall down.  Hugging herself, Elena stepped into the house.

“So who owns this place?’

“Not to sound like a douche, but technically _I_ do.”  Aaron scratched his head self-consciously.  “It was a part of the Whitmore Trust I got when my parents died.  Yeah, don’t hold that against me.  Usually when people find out that my name is Aaron Whitmore, they –”

Elena was startled.  “Wait, your name is Aaron _Whitmore_?  So you like, own this school?”

“That’s what they think,” He said slowly.  Elena caught sight of a picture and gravitated toward it.  She squinted.  Her father is that photograph.  She’d known he was involved, but . . .

“That’s my dad,” She said softly.

A new voice joined them, startling Elena into almost jumping.  “Grayson Gilbert was one of the best doctors the Augustine’s ever had.”  She turned her head in time to see Wes jam a needle into the side of her neck.  She choked as she fell to her knees.  “I’m glad he didn’t live to see this.”

“What the hell?”  Aaron’s shocked exclamation was the last thing Elena heard before she lost consciousness. 

.

.

.

Damon found that he almost wished he was unconscious again after an hour of vigorous questioning.  The questioning had been interrupted for a while, in which Damon thought he’d heard something upstairs, and Wes had disappeared for some an undeterminable amount of time.  When he’d returned, he’d seemed unreasonably happy.

It made Damon suspicious.  He was still weak but he could lift his head up of his own power now, and he was intensely curious about what had brought the professor’s mood up so high.  Wes was standing on the other side of the cell bars, clipboard, notes and pen in hand.  Damon thought he looked entirely too gleeful about his ordeal.

“You know, you’re in for a whole lotta bad karma, keeping me in here,” He drawled, more out of exhaustion than any sort of bravado.

“Is that what you told Doctor Whitmore?”  Wes asked.  “I mean, considering the way you looked when I mentioned that fire earlier, it’s pretty easy to assume you were around then, with Doctor Whitmore as your head, ah, researcher.”

“Give the man a prize,” Damon mumbled sourly.  “And no, the good doctor wasn’t much for talking.  He strapped me down to a table and tortured me for years, right after my no rotten relative from Mystic Falls vervain-ed my ass and gave me to him.”  Joseph Salvatore had been his name, the little wretched bastard.

“It’s not personal, Damon.”  Wes gave him one of his patented bland smiles.  “Science is always progressing and where would we be if we didn’t take chances and push the limitations set forth for us?”

Damon gave him a dirty look and elected to ignore that question, considering he didn’t particularly care.  “So your little Augustine Society is still up and running after all these years.”  The freaks.  “Eye examinations and that sort of thing.”  How many times had Doctor Whitmore gouged out his eyes to see how his healing ability worked and how vampires’ vision was so superior . . .?

“Jesse’s proof that my research goes far beyond that, Damon.  I trained him to crave vampire blood instead of human blood.”  Wes grinned.  “Now, I’m ready to go to the next level.  By the way, I have a new friend for you who will be your new cell neighbor.  Wait just a moment.”

Damon suddenly felt much more alert.  “What?” He demanded.  Wes didn’t respond and disappeared for several tense moments.  When he returned, he had a young woman draped over his shoulder like dead weight.  Her long brown hair trailed the dirty floor.  “Elena?”  He caught sight of her unconscious face and he felt entirely too helpless.  “What did you do to her?”

Wes laid her down in the cell next to him, separated by a thick wall made of brick and concrete.  He heard the door slam and Wes stepped back into view.  “I only gave her some vervain.  Relax.”

“Elena?  Elena, wake up,” Damon called.

“I think I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone now.”  Wes’ receding footsteps were already a memory as Damon focused intensely on listening to the cell next door.  But she didn’t reply.

.

.

.

Stephanie made record time to Whitmore College.  The day was truly beautiful, with a bright blue sky and huge warm sun bearing down on the campus and the students milling about on bikes, in groups and with books, which was a true contrast to the swirling, dark and turbulent emotions inside of her.  She needed to find Elena and they needed to hunt down the mysterious Professor Wes.  Maybe with the two of them they could overpower the man and get Damon out.  They might need Caroline too, she mused.  Two to distract, one to retrieve . . .

Elena wasn’t answering her phone, while Caroline and Bonnie’s went straight to voicemail.  Caroline’s answering machine said that if she wasn’t saying hello right now, she was in class.  Bonnie’s message was decidedly less perky, but Steph assumed she was in the same place.  Elena’s phone though just kept on ringing and ringing, which was concerning.  Steph wasn’t entirely sure where their dorm was, so she couldn’t exactly hide out there until one of her friends showed up.

Maybe she could find out a bit more about Professor Wes Maxfield in the meantime; speak with him, even.

“Excuse me.”  Steph pulled an older student aside, hoping for maturity and a straight answer.  “Can you tell me where I can find Doctor Wes Maxfield?  He’s a professor here.”

The girl grinned.  “That hot microbiology professor?  Yeah, I know him.  He’ll either be in his auditorium in the science building,” she pointed to one of the large campus structures, “or maybe in the Whitmore House.  There’s this society that he and my mother belong to and they commune there with the other members a lot to talk shop.”  She pointed out the Whitmore House as well, to Stephanie’s immense pleasure and gratitude.  “If they’re busy, it might be a while and you shouldn’t disturb them,” the student warned.  “My mom gets pretty intense about the stuff they do there and I get the sense that they hate being interrupted.”

“Thank you.”  Steph managed a smile.  “My brother was a student here a couple of years ago and I know that wherever Wes will be, so will my brother.  He’s pretty attached,” she lied.

The girl laughed.  “A science nerd, huh?  I’ve got one of those in my family too.  Not me though; I’ve known I wanted to be a drama major since sophomore year in high school.”

The girl was very friendly, which Steph wouldn’t have minded any other time.  As it was, time was of the essence.  “Thank you again for the directions and it was nice meeting you, but I really need to find my brother.”

The other girl wasn’t offended at all.  “Of course.  I hope you find him alright.”  She grinned and added, “Congratulations by the way!  I love babies but I don’t think I’ll be having any for a few more years.  I don’t think I could raise one while I’m still in school.”  She waved and left Stephanie staring and absently placing a hand on her belly.  Stephanie shook off her surprise and turned her focus back to her mission: find Wes Maxfield.

.

.

.

“Elena?  Elena, you have to wake up, sweetie.”  When Elena opened her eyes, it was dark and someone was calling her name.  She felt sluggish and weak and was unable to keep herself from moaning.  “Elena?”  The voice called again.  “Come, wake up.”

“Damon?”  Her tongue felt like lead in her mouth.

“It’s me,” Damon said.  “Are you okay?”

“Wes shot me up with vervain,” Elena mumbled.  “Where are you?  Are you okay?”

“We’re in a couple of cells next to each other beneath Whitmore House.  I’m just behind this wall, Elena.  When the vervain wears off we should be able to break through the bars.”  He sounded like he was trying to be reassuring.

Elena sat up in the dirt and swung her head around to see the entirety of her cell, but it was just a dark square of dirt and brick with a light source filtering in high above her head.  “What’s going on?  What are _you_ doing here?”

“Wes is carrying out the grand Augustine tradition, getting his kicks off of vampire torture,” Damon said, trying to be nonchalant.  She thought she heard a little bit of a quaver in his voice.  “I know, not just because of the questioning I did, but because I’ve been here before.”

“What?”  A pit formed in Elena’s stomach. 

“Someone in my family sold me out to the Augustine’s in 1953.  Every day this nut-job – Doctor Whitmore – cut in to us, cut pieces of our eyes out, and pushed us to our every limit.  He kept me in this very cell, and boy do I appreciate the irony.”

“Oh my God, Damon,” Elena cried softly.  “How long were you here?”

“Years, I guess.  It was a long time.”  She could hear him shifting in his cell and wished that she could see him.

Horrified, Elena demanded, “How did you not go crazy?”

“Believe it or not, I made a friend.  His name was Enzo.  He was soldier in Europe in World War II.”  There was a mix of emotions in his voice when he mentioned this friend; amity and thankfulness, but also regret and pain.

“How the hell did Doctor Whitmore get him here?”  How did a university professor have that kind of reach?

“He was working in a field hospital when he discovered Enzo was a vampire.  He gave him a bunch of vervain and shipped him here in a coffin to start experimenting.  He’d been here for ten years by the time I’d joined the party."

Elena rolled her lips together and her gaze bored into the brick between them.  “Damon, Wes knew my dad.  They worked together.  He said that my dad was in the Augustine too.”  Tears filled her eyes.  “I knew that my dad was a vampire hunter, but he was also the town doctor too.  He was and kind and gentle and love and he wouldn’t have been a part of a place that would cut our eyes out.”  A sob spilled out of her mouth and she curled into herself, pulling her knees up to her chin.

“People are full of surprises,” Damon said quietly.  Then she heard him move closer to the wall and she saw a hand sticking out from his cell.  Elena shoved her arm through the bars and tangled her fingers into his.  Softer, he said, “Elena I am so sorry I got you involved in all of this.  I wish you could look at me.  Look, I promise you I will get you out of here, okay?  I’ll get you out of here.”

She sniffled.  “I called Steph and she was on her way here,” Elena said.  “But I couldn’t wait so I went and found Aaron to help me look for Wes.  Was she . . . was she here with you in 1953?”

“No,” Damon barked sharply, and then he apologized.  “No, she wasn’t here and I’d rather you hadn’t called her.  The fewer vampires involved the better.”

“Well, she’ll be able to find us quickly,” Elena said, trying to uplift their spirits.  Instead of sounding hopeful, Damon only sighed.  “Damon?”

“Stephanie doesn’t know about this place,” Damon murmured.  “We were on the outs at the time I was captured and by the time we started traveling together again, I didn’t want her to know what had happened.  I didn’t want her to feel guilty about it.  So no, Steph isn’t going to be able to rescue us.  We’re going to have to do that ourselves.”  Funny how that’s what Elena had thought that very morning, that she didn’t need any more rescuers, but here she was.

She felt a little indignant on her friend’s behalf, however.  “Steph’s smart.  She’ll find us, Damon.”

“And then what?” He demanded.  “She’ll get caught, just like us, and we’ll have a new neighbor in our cell block.”

Elena only shook her head, even if Damon couldn’t see it.  She knew Stephanie, and while they hadn’t spoken in a while, she knew her friend would do all that she could to get them out of their situation.  “Have a little faith, Damon.”  Damon was quiet for a long time, which was unlike him.  She worried and so quickly tried to get him talking again.  “How did you survive in here?”

“Enzo’s friendship kept me going,” Damon explained.  “He gave me a reason to hang onto my humanity; even during the times I thought I’d be a prisoner forever.  He talked about his girl Maggie a lot.”  He trailed off.  “Once I asked them why they were doing this and Whitmore said he was trying to figure us out so he could put us to good use.”

“I’m so sorry,” Elena murmured.  “Damon, how did you escape this – this hellhole?”

“They let us out of the basement once a year,” Damon said.  “Every New Year’s Eve they had a little cocktail party with a little vampire blood buffet on the side.  We were weak and starved from living off of one glass of blood a day, and they chained us up like dogs in this big metal cage.  They’d take us out one a time to take what little blood we had in us so he could show his friends what he’d founded all of his research on.  Whitmore let his guests drink our blood to prove it would heal human flesh.  But on the plus side, that’s how Enzo came up with his plan.”

“What was the plan?”  Elena felt a little hope.  Maybe they could do something similar to leave their cells.  They’d have to tweak it, of course, but maybe they could use the general idea . . .

“Enzo gave me his share of the blood rations so I could work up my strength for a year, until the next party.  I would overpower the humans and we would escape.”

“Did it work?”  She asked eagerly.

“More or less.”

Elena felt hope bloom in her chest.  “How did you get out?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Damon said, his voice suddenly gruff.  “I got strong, I got out.  It won’t work this time though, if that’s what you’re thinking.  Wes is too smart for that.”

“Wes is going to come back down here and we’re going to be his new Augustine experiments if you don’t tell me how you got out of here, Damon,” Elena finally snapped. 

“You don’t want to know,” Damon replied tiredly.

“Do you think I’m going to judge you?”  She asked incredulously.  “After I went on my murdering spree in New York?  Damon, I love you.  I love you and these people tortured you for years.  Whatever you had to do, I don’t care.”

“Fine,” he whispered.  “The Augustine’s next party was in 1958, and I took the majority of his rations and grew stronger.  He was weak and we were ready.  They took me out of my cage and I ripped my hands out of my cuffs and I tore into that bastard’s throat, along with several other people.  Unfortunately, a fire started.  The bars . . . the cage bars were too hot.  Enzo trusted me with his life.  The fire was getting out of control and time was running out.  I’d never get another chance to escape, so I did what I had to to save myself.  I turned off my humanity and left Enzo there.  I left my friend to die.”

Elena felt a dawning sense of horror, but didn’t let herself make a sound.  She tried to imagine leaving behind Caroline or Bonnie or Stephanie to be tortured or killed, and couldn’t.  Not to save her own skin, never.  She loved Damon though; she hadn’t lied to him.  Elena couldn’t imagine her present without Damon, and he wouldn’t be there if he hadn’t betrayed Enzo.  But it was still despicable.  Somehow though, she found that she still forgave him.  Perhaps it was a testament to her selfishness, to how much she’d truly changed in just two years.

“That doesn’t change anything,” Elena whispered and she was sure she didn’t imagine the breath of pure _relief_ he let out.  A sudden clatter on the stairs distracted them soon after; Elena turned her head and almost hoped that one of her friend’s had come to let them out.  To her utter surprise, it was Aaron Whitmore who came jogging down the stairs with a pistol clutched tightly in his sweaty hands.

“What the hell is this place?”  Aaron’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Aaron?”  Elena pulled herself up with the bars, still dizzy, but stronger than before.

“Great, Mini Wes,” Damon drawled unhappily.

Elena and Aaron ignored him.  “Aaron, listen, you have to let us out.”

“I have to hear the truth,” Aaron corrected.  “I had no idea what Wes was doing and I had no idea this place existed.”  His haunted gaze trapped Elena.  “When you met me at Megan’s memorial you asked all these questions.”  Aaron’s hands shook as he loaded it with bullets, dropping a few to the floor.

“Slick hands, cowboy,” Damon sneered.

“I’ve never used one of these before!” Aaron defended loudly.  “And I’ve never killed anyone before either.”

Elena’s heart skipped a beat.  “What?”  She asked shakily.

“Wes said a vampire killed Megan.”  Aaron, finally getting the ammunition in the pistil, leveled it at Elena’s face.

“And you thought it was Elena?”  If her heart hadn’t been racing, she might have been happy Damon sounded so amused at the thought of her killing her roommate.  In all reality, it had been a close thing at the beginning of the school year when her humanity had been off.

“Aaron, listen,” Elena begged, “she was in this house and I wasn’t invited inside!  I couldn’t have!”

“He also said a vampire killed my parents!”  Aaron raged on, arms quivering.  “Maybe that was you too!”

“That’s impossible,” Elena snapped.

“Then why else would you take such an interest in me, huh?”  Aaron demanded sharply.  “Why would you pretend to be my friend?”

“Calm down,” Damon tried to soothe.

“She’s a vampire!”  Aaron shouted at him.

“Not the one that killed your parents,” Damon argued.  “That was _all_ me.” 

“What?  Damon what are you talking about?”  Elena gripped the cell bars in her hands with all of her remaining strength.  “Damon?”

Aaron lowered the gun.  “What did you just say?”  He pointed it at Damon, instead.  “Start talking.”

“In 1958, after the fire Enzo was dead, so I decided to take revenge on my own,” Damon explained.  “We’d talked about what we would do after, but since he was gone . . . it was up to me.  I decided to wipe out the entire Whitmore family . . . but leave one person remaining.  So I did it.  And then, after they’d repopulated, I did it again to the next generation.  And I did it again and again.”

Elena put a hand to her mouth.  She could understand killing the people who’d tortured him but she didn’t think she could even begin to rationalize the deaths of all of the following family members.  Not all of them could have known.

“How many Whitmore’s have you killed?”  Aaron spat.

“Since 1958?”  Damon seemed to shrug, though she couldn’t look at him to tell for sure.  “I lost count.”

“When was the last one?  Damon, when was the last one?”

“A few months ago.  Her name was Sarah.  I had to go all the way to Charleston.  It was a weekend trip; you didn’t know.”

“But I had my humanity shut off then,” Elena said.  “I was in school with Caroline and Bonnie and you took the time to go kill Aaron’s aunt?”

“I had no idea,” Elena choked.

“Told you it wasn’t pretty,” Damon muttered and then Aaron took a shot at Damon.

“ _No_!”  Elena screamed.  “No, don’t!”  She dropped to the ground and reached through the bottom of their cells for Damon’s limp hand, while Aaron simply turned around and stormed back up the stairs.  She cried, even as Wes returned and threw open her cell door.  Elena felt her fangs drop and she launched herself at him.  Unfortunately, she felt the prick of a needle in her arm and with it, her strength dwindled.

As her world went dark, the only think Elena could think about was Damon’s still, cold fingers she’d just barely grazed with her own.

.

.

.

Steph went to the science building first, considering she didn’t need an invitation to get inside.  She peaked through the window of his class and seeing no students, broke the lock to investigate.  The shades were drawn, leaving the room in darkness except for a surprising light coming from the office that sat in the corner of the classroom.  Footsteps coming toward her alerted Steph to the other presence in the room.

It was a boy that was physically around her age, maybe a little older, with blond hair and hooded eyes.  His hands were trembling and his fingers fiddled with a gold watch on his left wrist.  “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I’m looking for Professor Maxfield,” Stephanie said.  “I was told he might be in here.”

“Are you a student?”  He asked.

“No, but a few friends of mine go here.”

“Well, these aren’t his office hours,” the kid pointed out.  “He’ll be at the Whitmore House right now, but he’s busy.”  He squinted.  “You look familiar.”

Stephanie furrowed her brows.  “We’ve never met,” she assured him.  “I’m Steph.”

His eyes dipped down to her expanded waistline and then back up to her face.  “I’m Aaron Whitmore.  And you’re right; you just looked like someone I know a little, is all, but you couldn’t be related.”

Suspicion filled Stephanie.  “Oh?”  Aaron _Whitmore_?

The kid hummed.  “Yeah, uh, don’t worry about it.  Anyway, you should just come back tomorrow during Wes’ visiting hours.”

It was still late afternoon, not evening the evening yet; Wes had to come back to his office for his regular students around this time, if not for tutoring, then for class.  Unless he was busy with what Elena had called his experiments.  Steph narrowed her eyes.   “You said he would be at the Whitmore House now?  I really do need to talk to him; it’s an emergency.”  She wondered if an invitation from him would get her inside; it _had_ to be the same Whitmore as the school.  What kind of coincidence would that have been otherwise?

Aaron sighed.  “Let me walk you over, then.  I’ll see if he’s . . . busy.”  He urged her forward and Steph took the first few steps out of the classroom before the student followed behind her.  He led the way out of the science building and toward the Whitmore House, which turned out to be something that looked so historical, it might as well have been in Mystic Falls.

“Come on,” Aaron shrugged a shoulder as he stepped into the house.  Stephanie wondered if that constituted as an invitation.  Finding no barrier between her foot and the threshold was a pleasant surprise.  She wandered in after him, only paying slight attention as he commanded her to _stand right_ _there_ and not to move a muscle until he returned.  As he walked down the hall, Stephanie looked around the foyer and stepped farther inside to take a look around.

Her belly fluttered, prompting Steph to put a hand to it.  She was surprised to find that the fluttering continued, lower.  Arching her brows, Stephanie looked down and wondered if it was anxiety of hunger.  Then, she realized; it was her _baby_ moving inside of her.  She smiled, but forced herself to turn away; she could marvel at her son later.  Stephanie looked up the stairs, but heard a sharp clang coming from below her feet.

Stephanie looked down at the floor.  “What the hell was that?”

“What was what?”  Aaron had returned and was giving her a wary and confused look.  “Look, Wes isn’t here.  He just left to take some of his research over to another lab.  He’ll be back for the rest of it later.”

She heard another noise, this time the dull thud of cement crumbling.  Steph forced herself to not twitch at the sound.  Steph rolled her lips together.  She definitely had not imagined that; there was someone, probably multiple people, underground in some kind of basement.  This must have been the place they were keeping their experiments.  Or at least some of them, because _transporting_ research to another lab?  If it was Damon, Stephanie might not get another chance to get him out.

 “I thought I heard something, is all.” 

“Must have been the pipes.”  Aaron shrugged with forced nonchalance.  “Or maybe rats.  There used to be an infestation a few years ago.”  He looked agitated and his heart was racing.  “Look, you really need to go.  Like I said, Wes isn’t here, so you’ll need to wait.”

Steph was going to have to compel him.  “ _Are you on vervain_?” 

“No,” Aaron murmured.  “What is that?  Wes mentioned it was some kind of anti-vampire drug, but –”

“ _Is Damon Salvatore here?”_

“Yeah, he’s in one of the cells downstairs,” Aaron was forced to respond.

_“Show me.”_ Aaron led her to one of the doors and showed her to the basement.  There was a set of stairs that went down to a dirt floor that had what looked to be cages lining the sides.  Steph turned to Aaron.  “ _Forget we had this conversation and go do whatever you were going to before you ran into me.  Forget you ever met me.”_   He blinked and turned around and she waited until she heard the slam of the front door before going down.

It was dark except for some light filtering in from a high ceiling, but Stephanie could see Damon easily enough as his pale arm stretched from the bars, trying to reach what looked like a bullet outside of his cell.  “I guess the cavalry arrived just in time,” Stephanie drawled.

Damon jerked, surprised.  “Steph?”

“I know I’m late, but better late than never.”  She grabbed two of the bars pushed them outwards, using her strength from feeding on both humans and Klaus’ hybrid blood during sex.  She made the hole wide enough for Damon to squeeze through, and when he was out, Steph put her arms around him in a much desired hug.

 He returned the affection and clutched her back, chin resting on her head.  “I’m glad to see you, sister.  We’ve got to get Elena out next.  Wes took her sometime during my nap.”  He pulled away and pointed at the dried blood of his forehead.  Damon’s brows furrowed though.  His eyes dipped down.  “What the hell . . . ?”

“Looks like we’ve both had exciting summers,” Stephanie said unenthusiastically.  She sighed.  “I’ll explain on the way.  What do you mean that Wes has Elena too?”

“No, I’d kind of rather talk about the fact that you look a little pregnant, and _my God, is that a heartbeat?!_ ”

“Like I said, on the way.”  Stephanie grabbed Damon’s shoulder and shoved him ahead of her.  “That kid Aaron might come back.”  They marched up the basement stairs, where they then ransacked the rest of the house, but couldn’t find a trace of Wes or Elena or anyone else at all.  

“We’ll have to find Aaron again to see where that lab might be,” Stephanie muttered aloud as they left the Whitmore House.  What was with Whitmore's professors?  Shane and now Wes; they were psychotic.  They needed to get Elena back immediately, considering the place she’d found Damon.

“I’ll come up with a plan, but you need to start explaining _that_.”  Damon pointed vaguely at the small bump on Steph's belly.

“It's not as important as finding _your girlfriend_ , but fine.  It all started when these two witches came into the Mystic Grill several months ago . . .”

.

.

.

tbc

 

 


	8. the danger is i'm dangerous and i might just tear you apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're ashamed of what you've done,  
> Crying 'cause your father's wrong  
> Trying to be something new,  
> You'll feel that you were something to prove

“I can’t believe you’re back with Klaus.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were experimented on for five years and didn’t tell me.”

“Klaus is a psychopathic murderer!”

“So are you,” Steph accused.  “You’ve killed every generation of Whitmore’s since 1958!”

“I left one alive each time,” Damon excused with a lazy hand wave, “so not _every_ Whitmore.”

Steph sent him a deadpan look, trying to impress upon him that she was Definitely Unimpressed.  “Yeah, so they could make another generation of Whitmore’s for you to massacre, Damon.  Don’t think that you have any moral high ground over Klaus.”  He pouted.

Walking into the freshmen dorm together, Steph and Damon Salvatore bickered back and forth.  They’d put on their leather jackets – their crime fighting uniforms, Damon had teased – and gone to get some leverage to get their Gilbert back from Doctor Wes.  Sitting in the dorm lounge with a book in hand and earbuds firmly placed, was that leverage.

“Shush and put on your hero hair; there he is,” Damon hissed.  Steph rolled her eyes, but let her brother lead and be dramatic as he dropped onto the sofa next to Aaron.  “Pop quiz,” he drawled, startling the youth.  “Your girlfriend is abducted by a mad scientist.  You A – get a new girlfriend, B – call the police, or C – kill someone close to the mad scientist?”  He casually ticked off the options with his fingers.

Aaron jumped up from his seat, causing his school book to drop loudly to the floor, and he started to sprint for the stairs.  Stephanie blocked him.  “Sit,” she commanded.  Aaron froze and swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.  He slowly walked backwards and gently lowered himself back down to the couch without a word.  She followed behind, keeping her eyes peeled for any students that might intervene, but it seemed they were all out enjoying another sunny day.

“So, where’s Elena?”  Damon stretched his arms out, letting a hand touch Aaron’s shoulder in warning.  _I could kill you in a second and there’s nothing you can about it,_ his lingering gaze and wandering fingers implied.  Steph took a seat in the chair next to him, boxing in the college student.  He was vibrating with anger and fear, fingers rapidly tapping his kneecaps.

“I have no idea where Wes took her.”  Aaron glowered.

“Well, they’re not at Wes’ lab, so where else could he hide a vampire?”  Aaron’s sunken in eyes darted to Stephanie.

He folded his arms across his chest defensively.  “Am I supposed to know who you are?”  Steph pulled back and mimicked his position of a casual slouch and offered him a bland smile.

“That’s my sister, Steph, but I’d watch your tone with her, because she’s a little crazy,” Damon advised.  He used his pointer finger and draws circles in the air around his head.  Her casual mask for Aaron fell away and irritation rose to replace it.  She directed that ire toward her brother.

“I’m what?”  Stephanie demanded with sharp annoyance, because like hell _Damon_ could talk about being crazy. 

“What else would you call getting back together with that creep and letting him knock you up with his super hybrid sperm?”  Damon asked with an amused curl of his lip.  He wore smugness like a cloak. 

Aaron’s brows rose and he watched the siblings’ conversation like a ping pong match.

Steph rolled her lips together and glowered threateningly.  Damon, she thought, was incredibly stupid sometimes.  “I’m sorry; I _let_ him knock me up?”  She repeated slowly.  “I told you it was those damned witches.”  To rile him up, she added, “I think you’re _jealous_.”  He’d wanted a family when they were humans.

“More like disturbed,” Damon shot back with a playful smirk.  “Why would I be jealous, because you’re having a kid?  Let’s face it; I would never have been a good parent.”

“That’s bullshit.”  Stephanie rolled her eyes.  Despite his random psychoses and his alcoholism, he wouldn’t be a terrible father considering the example their own had been.  “You know you wanted to have four children, a wife and a sprawling property with about five horses.”

“Yeah, before I was turned into a _vampire_ and a psychopathic murderer,” Damon replied, making sure to throw back her words from earlier in her face.

“Um, excuse me,” Aaron interrupted, drawing their attention.  He looked at Damon.  “Just – how are you not dead?  I shot you.” 

“You aimed for the head, dumbass.”  Damon clapped him on the forehead.  “You gotta aim for the heart; aim for the heart next time.”  He turned serious.  “Now, where’s Elena?”

Aaron sighed and rubbed his tired face with weary hands.  “I have no idea.  All that Wes told me was to go on as if life was normal, which I was trying to do until you two showed up.”  He sounded bitter, which Steph supposed she couldn’t blame him for if two strangers showed up abruptly in her life and then proceeded to threaten and cajole her.

“Well, you need to call Wes,” Damon told him frankly.  “And you need to tell him to tell _us_ where Elena is, or the next experiment he’s going to be conducting will be sewing your arms back on.”  He ran pale, nimble fingers on said appendage, from Aaron’s shoulder to wrist.  The kid’s heart started to beat a little faster. 

“Tell him that Damon and Steph Salvatore will make the town rain blood – yours, to be specific – if we don’t get Elena back.”  Stephanie folded her hands over her curved belly and her son fluttered beneath her touch in response.

“Okay, okay,” Aaron said and pulled out his phone to dial the professor.  It rang and rang, making Aaron send Damon a hapless look.

“Tick.  Tock,” Damon whispered. 

Finally, Wes picked up the phone and asked after Aaron’s wellbeing.

“Do you have Elena?”  Aaron cut to the chase.  When Wes asked what was wrong, Aaron replied, “Damon and Stephanie Salvatore are going to kill me if you don’t return Elena to them safe and sound.”  When Wes made some mutterings about Damon being locked up, Aaron testily replied, “Or instead, he’s sitting in front of me, imagining what my kidneys taste like.”

_“Fine; meet me in my classroom.  Once I see you’re safe, tell them I’ll turn over Elena.”_ Wes hung up brusquely.

“Um, he said –” Aaron started to explain.

“Yeah, we heard.”  Damon brushed him off.  “Let’s go, now.”  He clasped a heavy hand onto the student’s shoulder and heaved him up off the couch.  “Are you ready to rescue our damsel in distress, Steph?”  He called as he pushed Aaron in front of him.

“More than,” Stephanie answered.  She followed Damon and Aaron as they led the way to the classroom she’d be to just a day ago.  The trek from the dormitories to the science building felt shorter this time and the door was still damaged from Steph’s previous breaking and entering, so they managed to get inside quickly and quietly without making a fuss.  The class was dark when they stepped inside, Damon pushing Aaron forward first in case of a trap.  Someone cleared their throat.

“21051,” a new accented voice drawled from the back of the auditorium set class.  Steph lifted her head to see a pale white man lounging comfortably in the top row of seats, feet crossed on the chair in front of him.

“Enzo?”  Damon gasped.  His dark brows furrowed and his face pinched up in surprise and some other unnamable emotion.  Steph pursed her lips.

“It’s been a while, mate.”  The vampire got to his feet and smirked lazily, gaze lingering on Damon only.  His dark hair was slicked back from his face and his eyes were dark and haunted looking.  He strolled down the aisle stairs, his gait resembling that of a predator stalking his prey.

“Who the hell are you?”  Stephanie demanded.  It couldn’t be the Enzo Damon had spoken of; he’d said that he was dead.  But he was clearly . . . not as dead as Damon had thought.

“Lorenzo,” the vampire confirmed with a smirk.  “But my friends call me Enzo.”  He barked laughter.  “Kidding, I don’t have any friends.”  He stuck out hand out for Stephanie to shake.  She stared at him, unimpressed and uninterested.  “Oh, forgive me; you’re a lady.”  Enzo took her hand in his and kissed the tips of her fingers.  Steph crinkled her nose and snatched her hand back.

“We’re here to meet somebody.  Wes Maxfield.  Have you ever heard of him?”  Damon asked, eyeing his (ex?) best friend.

“What?  That’s the first thing you say to me?  No, _I’m sorry for leaving you do die?_ ”  Enzo looked truly put out. 

“He’s truly apologetic,” Stephanie said.  She was sympathetic but she’d much rather hash this out _after_ Elena was safe again.  “Have you heard of Wes?”

Enzo’s eyes narrowed.  “Very rude.  Who are _you_ are again?”

“None of your business.”  She turned to Aaron.  “Give me your phone; clearly, Wes has sent one of his friends to distract us.”  He handed it over, and Steph stepped into the hall to give the man a call.

“Aaron?” Wes asked.

“Where’s Elena?”  Steph demanded.

“Who is this?”  Wes’ voice was cold and clinical. 

She refused to answer the question.  Instead, she said shortly, “We have Aaron and we’re deciding how to kill him.”

Wes was unfazed.  “Funny.”  She could almost hear the smile in his voice when he realized what exactly this call was pertaining to.  “I have Elena and _I’m_ wondering how she’ll function without her cerebral cortex.”  Almost cheerfully, he added, “Harm a hair on his head and you’ll never see Elena again.”

“That threat works both ways.”  Stephanie flipped the phone shut before he could respond with his acerbic wit.  She stepped back into the room and at Damon’s questioning look and splayed arms, Steph said, “He’s not sending her over.”

“Tragic,” Enzo growled.  “Can I continue my story please?”  He was perched on a desk table with furrowed brows and a sneer on his lips.

Damon ignored his friend.  “We have the kid.  Doesn’t he know that?”

“He doesn’t care and he’s willing to risk it,” Steph replied grimly.  She slid the phone into her jeans’ pocket.

Aaron yelped, “What?  Let me talk to him!  He’ll listen to me.”  A sudden loud crash got the trio’s attention.  They turned to find the source, only to see Enzo standing with his hands on his hips and an upended desk next to the window.

“Where were we?”  He asked rhetorically.  “Oh yeah, I was telling my story and you were listening to me, _politely_.” 

“Out of the four of us, two of you were _there_ at the time of this story, and the other two don’t give a damn,” Stephanie said.  They didn’t have time for this vampire’s theatrics.

“Damon left me to die!”  Enzo howled in anger, fists clenching and unclenching repeatedly in agitation. 

“Well, you didn’t die, obviously,” Stephanie dryly pointed out.

“Yes, I lived, rather unfortunately too, because some scientist saved me for more experiments that I had to endure for fifty more years.”  He was pouting, Steph thought with a certain amount of amazement. 

“Like I said, he’s very sorry,” Stephanie said in a slightly gentler voice.

Enzo huffed, some of his anger deflating.  “I’m going to find me something to drink away my sorrows.  I’ll be back to commiserate and finish my story then.”  As he passed Stephanie, he added, “You’re welcome to join me of course, sweet.”

“She’s already got a crazy English boyfriend,” Damon snapped and made shooing motions.  “She doesn’t need another one.”

“Oh?”  Enzo looked put out.  “Too bad.”  He disappeared around the corner, clearly intent of getting something to drink before he tried to distract them from their rescue attempt.

“Well,” Damon sighed, “should I kill Aaron or should you?”

“Shouldn’t you be more concerned with your cellmate of five years that you thought was dead for fifty?”  Stephanie asked incredulously, shoulders pulled up in disbelief.  

“Um, not at the moment, no.  Damsel. In distress.  She needs our help,” Damon reminded Steph, as if she could forget.

“Obviously, but you could show a _little_ bit of remorse,” Stephanie said.

“Listen!  There’s no need to kill me, okay!”  Aaron interrupted.  “Wes gave me a bunch of files on all of this – this supernatural stuff.  There might be information about where he could have taken Elena.  I mean, there could be another lab.”

“That’s certainly a _timely_ revelation,” Damon drawled as he advanced closer to the nervous kid.

“W-well, he’s not going to help me, so why should I help him?”  Aaron backed up a few steps as he compulsively swallowed back excess spit in this mouth.

“I don’t like you,” Damon declared darkly.  “I don’t like you messing with my relationship and if you’re lying to me, I’m going to take my thumbs,” he bared his thumbs like they were swords, “and I’m going to gouge out your sad little eyes from your sad little head!”

Steph stepped between them.  “Alright, let’s go.”  She didn’t actually want to kill Aaron and she was eager to find Elena and just go to bed.  She was exhausted from dealing with Agnes, being kidnapped by Tyler, rescuing Damon’s ass, and now Elena’s too.  This mess with Aaron and Enzo was just an irritant to add to the top of the cake.

“Aha!  It’s frightening what you find on campus these days,” Enzo’s voice echoed in the auditorium.  Steph turned her head and saw that he’d returned with a bottle of amber liquid.  He was strolling toward them with a maniac grin and a bounce in his step.

“Knock yourself out; we’re going with plan B.”  Steph pushed Aaron and Damon ahead of her, intending to leave as soon as possible.  Unfortunately, Enzo had other ideas.

He said, “Damon’s _not_.  He’s staying right here; he knows all of my secrets, so he knows how ornery I get when I don’t get my way.”  He popped open the bottle and took a long swig.  That smile was still fixed in place.

“Call me if you find anything.  Kill him if you don’t.”  Damon accepted Enzo’s terms with little struggle.  Steph barely resisted the urge to throw her arms up in frustration.  She made a staying motion to Aaron and moved to stand in front of Enzo.

“The hell do you want him for?  He’s a giant dick,” Stephanie said, much to the amusement of Enzo and Damon himself. 

“Yes, well, I rather enjoy his company.”  Enzo took another swig.  “You seem pretty attached.  You never did say who you were – one of his ladies, I take it?”

“This is my sister, Steph,” Damon introduced, quick to dispel that thought from Enzo’s head.  “I told you, she already has a boyfriend.”  His eyes darted down to the bump on her belly for the briefest of moments.  Enzo pursed his lips, but said nothing.  Stephanie supposed that for all he knew, she was just extra curvy.  After all, who ever heard of a pregnant vampire, she thought dryly.  “Listen, Steph, just take Aaron and get Elena.  I’ll stay for a while and entertain him.”

“Fine.  Don’t die while I’m gone or else I’ll have made this whole trip for nothing,” she snarled as she took Aaron by the elbow and dragged him out of the classroom.  “Take me to wherever you’re keeping those documents Wes gave you.  _Now_.”

Aaron took her back to the dormitories and to his room.  “All the files on my family history are in here, okay?”  He stepped forward and stooped to rummage in one of his drawers.  Steph heard the clip of a gun and flashed to the other side of the room.  When Aaron turned his pistol on where she had just stood a second prior, she got behind him and shoved Aaron up against the wall with her inhuman strength.  The gun dropped to the floor with a clatter of metal against wood.

“Was this all a lie?  Huh?”  Stephanie wrapped her fingers around Aaron’s neck and squeezed.  “If you want me to kill you, I will kill you; do not test me!”

“Dude, I’m dead already,” Aaron gasped.  “Damon’s going to kill me anyway!  It’s what he’s been doing to the Whitmore’s for decades!”

“Listen, if you help me, I’ll protect you from my brother,” Stephanie hissed.  “Deal?”  She loosened her grip.

He coughed hoarsely.  “How are you going to protect me?”  Aaron rasped, “You’re tiny.”

“And he’s my brother.”  Stephanie took her hand away from his neck and put it on her hip.  “He’ll listen to me.  If not, I’ll get you far away from Virginia and into safe hands behind his back.  I know some powerful people who’d be willing to do me a favor.  So tell me; do we have a deal?”

He massaged his throat and nodded slowly.  “But only if I have your word.”

“You do,” Steph swore.

Aaron licked his lips and slowly walked back to the drawer, where he picked up a large book that resembled a grimoire.  He held it out to her.  “Here.  This is everything Wes gave me on the Augustine.  I saw Elena’s last name on a few pages; maybe it’ll help.”  She took it and paged through the tome.

And indeed, when she found the Grayson Gilbert section in the back, she saw that he had a lab of his own that had been used to house vampires and their ongoing experiments on them.  Steph looked up.  “Thank you.  I am sorry for the way Damon and I have mistreated you and I’m sorry for how he’s treated your entire family.  I will do everything I possibly can to get you out of here safely.”  She offered an apologetic smile.  “Do you like California?”

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.

Sitting in the dark auditorium with Enzo was surreal.  Damon couldn’t kept staring at his old friend, who lingered by the window, taking long swigs of the alcohol he’d managed to find on campus.  He’d pulled the blinds open so small streaks of sunlight would creep in and they cast shadows on the linoleum floor.  Enzo basked in what little light he allowed himself and Damon wondered where he was keeping his lapis lazuli pendant on him.

“What about cricket?  Did that ever become a thing here?”  Enzo sounded curious.

“No.”  Damon tapped his knee and avoided looking at his friend.

Enzo stepped away from the window and strolled over to Damon’s side, where he sat hunched over on Wes’ desk.  “Huh.  Shame.  Fun sport, not that I could ever play well.  I took up drawing for a while though,” Enzo said.  “I didn’t have any pencils or paper in my cell though, so I would often prick my finger and use my blood to draw on the walls.”

“What do you want?  You want me to feel guilty?”  Damon’s voice cracked.  “I couldn’t save you.”  Despite all of his nonchalance and bravado he was feeling an acute sense of regret and pain over seeing Enzo again after so many years.  He just didn’t want to process it.  “Where’s Elena?”

Enzo coughed wetly, curling a little into himself and he rested a foot on the stool that sat next to Wes’ desk.

“What’s wrong with you?”  Damon wished his voice didn’t sound so hoarse.

“Wes injected me with a poison that only he has the antidote for.  Brilliant doctor, Wes is, and he’s been quite busy finding toxins that affect a vampire’s system,” Enzo explained.  “It’ll stop my heart and I’ll desiccate.”

Damon leaped off of the desk and spread his arms wide.  “All the more reason to tell me where he is!”  He begged, “Look, you get the antidote and I save my girlfriend.  Then we’ll kill Wes together.”

Enzo asked a question of his own.  He looked at Damon with an intensity that almost surprised him.  “Did you even think about it after you left?  The experiments, the cell, any of it?  Or did you just go back to your merry life and forget about your brief stint in hell?”

“Look at me,” Damon growled.  “If you go back, we go back together.  We finish this for good.”  He held out his hand hopefully.  “Come on.”

Enzo gripped it and relief made Damon relax.  But Enzo pulled him close, his grip tightening on Damon’s.  “You’re not going to see your girl – or your sister for that matter – again.  I want the antidote and Wes told me not to come back until you’re dead.”  He grabbed Damon’s shoulders and bodily lifted him up.  Air whooshed passed Damon’s ears as he was flung out the window.  Tiny shards of glass embedded themselves into his clothes and his exposed skin, but their sting was nothing compared to the feeling of his bones breaking and dislocating on impact with the ground below.

Damon moaned as he sat up in the grass and took a second to be grateful that there weren’t any students close enough to have seen that in this corner of the campus at that moment.  He popped his misaligned bones back into places, only to be grabbed again and tossed into the windshield of the silver Pontiac Solstice parked next to the science building.

“I imagine you just broke your clavicle!”  Enzo called.  Damon blinked the stars out of his eyes and tried to will his body to heal faster.  He dragged his abused form off the hood of the car.  “You know, I learned a lot about my body as they took it apart and put it back together again so many times over the decades!”

“I’m not going to fight you.”  Damon staggered drunkenly but maintained his balance.  Not for long, unfortunately; Enzo took a broad swing with his fist at Damon’s cheek, and he found himself back in the dirt a moment later. 

“What are you gonna do?  Run?  You’re good at that,” Enzo spat.

“I want to find my girlfriend,” Damon reiterated the statement he’d been uttering for the past twenty or so hours.  He pushed himself to his feet and this time managed to stop Enzo’s punch.  He shoved the other vampire back with enough force to send Enzo sprawling onto his back, but he hopped back up like an energized bunny.  He tried another go at Damon, but Damon caught his fist for a second time and twisted.  Enzo’s face began to lose some of its tint and the veins on his arms began to darken.  “Enzo?”

“It’s the bloody poison,” he choked.

“Where is she, Enzo?”  Damon wrapped his hands around Enzo’s neck and cheeks to support his lolling head.  He shook him.  “Tell me where she is!”

“For what?  To see her again?  It might be good for you to know what’s it’s like to miss someone for the next sixty years,” Enzo roared, his voice almost incomprehensible as the poison began to take over his body.  Damon told himself he’d tell him about Katherine if he survived this.

“Where is she?  Enzo!  Tell me where Elena is!”  Damon roared angrily, but Enzo’s body only greyed and quieted as he slumped to the ground in Damon’s arms.

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.

When Damon didn’t answer his phone and she wasn’t able to find him in the auditorium – only broken glass and smashed cars – Stephanie deciding to forgo his help and went to check out Doctor Grayson Gilbert’s lab herself.  It was located in his old medical practice close to Whitemore’s campus and looked, for intents and purposes, abandoned.

She punched a hole through the glass door next knob and fiddled with the lock until it came undone.  Inside the waiting area, there was nothing that looked untoward, but Steph could hear the murmur of voices behind a door situated in the corner of the room.  Opening it revealed a rusty staircase and sounds of a struggle below.  Stephanie flashed down the stairs and careened to a stop when she found the legendary Professor Wes unconscious on the floor and Elena strapped down to a gurney.

 “Stephanie,” Elena breathed.  “Steph, oh God, he was going to turn me into a ripper and kicked him back and he fell –”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Steph soothed.  She immediately went to Elena’s side and ripped off her restraints.  “We’re getting out of here right now.  Damon’s waiting for you; we’ve had a long day trying find this place.”  She was practically cooing at her friend to keep a panic attack at bay.  Steph helped lift Elena into a sitting position and couldn’t resist pulling her in for a firm hug.

“Get me out of here,” she whispered.

“Of course,” Stephanie said.  “Of course.”  She braced Elena with her own body and helped her to stand on her own feet. 

“Wait,” Elena murmured and she reached out and grabbed a thick file sitting on the table next to the gurney.  “Okay.”  Stephanie helped her limp out of her father’s old practice, sparing only one last glance at Wes’ prone body.

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.

Stephanie called Damon and told him to meet her at the Boarding House; she had Elena with her.  She settled her friend into Elena and Damon’s bed upstairs and gave her a few pints of blood from their fridge, in addition to a mug of her favorite tea.  Once she was awake and alert, Stephanie began to talk.

“This is crazy.”  Elena was stunned rather than condemning, which was a significantly better initial reaction than Steph could have hoped for.  Her hands were curled around the plain looking mug, fingers seeking the warmth of the steaming tea.  Elena’s eyes were large and attentive in spite of the deep set circles beneath them, indicating her exhaustion.  They flicked down to Steph’s abdomen.  “That’s really . . . a baby?”

“One that’s supposedly destined to be the end of all witches, yes.”  Stephanie sighed wearily. 

“I can’t believe Tyler kidnapped you.”  Elena shoved a hand through her hair, pushing the curls away from her face.  “And he really made a hybrid?”

Steph frowned.  “Sort of.  It was . . . mutated.  I don’t think it really worked as well as Tyler thought it did.  By the time Klaus fought it, apparently it resembled the failed ones in Tennessee rather than the successful ones like Tyler.”

There was a creak on the wooden floorboard just outside the bedroom and then they were joined by Damon.  “But someone could still use the baby’s blood to create a savage, if temporary, army.  I’d think of them more as the _Walking Dead_ variety of monsters.”  He slipped onto the bed and pulled Elena to his side and kissed the top of her head.  “Which means you should probably stay here,” Damon added to his thought.  “You know, for the good of my nephew.” 

“It’s a boy?”  Elena turned to Steph.

“That’s what Sabine said,” Steph agreed.

“Well, she sounded like a crackpot, so maybe we won’t take her word for it.”  Damon smirked. 

“Whatever, Damon,” Stephanie said. 

“What’s that?” Damon nudged the notebook that sat cradled in Elena’s lap, which had gone largely unnoticed by Steph in her desire to nurse Elena back to health.

Elena looked uncomfortable as she picked it up and flipped the pages open.  “It’s my father’s journal for his research with Augustine.”

“You’re going to give yourself nightmares reading it, then,” Damon murmured.  “The stuff in there isn’t going to be pretty.”

“It’s just hard to believe that my dad was involved in all of this.  I mean, I remember there always being something off with that basement when I was kid, but obviously I never would have guessed its real purpose . . .”  She looked back down to the journal.  “There are pages dedicated to my roommate, Megan, you know?  She was very sick but my dad used vampire blood to heal her.  He saved the lives, lives of children and anyone who was looking at a terminal sentence.”

“By dissecting vampires along the way,” Damon pointed out harshly.  “And Elena, you are a vampire.  Do you really think he would sit here and see you as anything more?”

“But he’s my dad, I can’t _not_ defend him,” Elena said, tone turning sensitive.  Steph put a hand to her friend’s knee and rubbed soothingly.

“No one’s saying not to,” Stephanie reassured her.  “He was your father and he loved you.  Maybe he would have accepted you as a vampire, maybe not, but we’ll never know, so there’s no point stressing over what ifs.”  Elena and Damon settled but their feathers were still ruffled, so Stephanie changed the subject.

“What happened to Enzo?”  She asked her brother.

“Well, after he admitted that Wes injected him with a poison that would stop his heart and we tossed each other around a bit –” That explained the glass and the carnage at the science building.  “– and I couldn’t find you two, he temporarily desiccated and I took the little shit to Wes’ lab where I proceeded to give him everything that said _antidote_ on it until he woke up.”

“I knew I saw him!”  Elena exclaimed.  “When I woke up in the first lab, there was another vampire tied down next to me.  He introduced himself as Enzo.  But when I woke up again in my father’s old clinic, I wasn’t sure if it hadn’t just been a dream.”

“Yeah, and he’s still pissed,” Damon said sourly.  He turned his head away to avoid looking at either his sister or his girlfriend.

“What did he say to you?”  Stephanie asked.

“What?” Damon shook his head. “Nothing.”

“No, he said something to you that provoked you,” Stephanie pushed.  She put a hand onto his shoulder.

“Enzo just made me realize some things about myself that I’ve been ignoring,” Damon admitted.

“Like what?”  Elena asked softly.  “Damon?”  She kissed his jaw but he pushed her away and got up from the bed to stand at the window.  Steph and Elena exchanged glances. 

“He said I was a monster for leaving him there, and . . . he was right.”  Damon looked at them.  “Tell me he isn’t right, after I slaughtered all those Whitmore’s, for leaving Enzo there to burn.”

“I think,” Elena said carefully, “that you’ve done monstrous things but that you’ve also done wonderful things too.  You can choose to be different, Damon, and I believe that you will.”

“Why?”  Damon asked.

“Because you love me,” Elena said.  “You like our friends and you love Steph and you regret what you’ve done.  So I think you’re going to change.” 

He made a sharp noise.  “Don’t make excuses for me, Elena.  Don’t defend me.”

“I’m not defending you,” Elena snapped, suddenly irritated.  “I’m not defending your choice to kill generations of Whitmore’s or the fact that while I was still kind of crazy, he went off to kill Aaron’s aunt.”

“Then why are you still here?”  Damon demanded.  He spun around and gestured angrily.  “I’m bad, Elena.  So why haven’t run yet?”

“Because I love you and I believe what I told you before.”  She moved the journal from her lap to stand in front of Damon.  Putting her hands onto his shoulders, Elena leaned forward.  “I choose to believe that you can be good.  You can stop hurting people and let the good inside of you come out.”

They stood together, staring intensely at each other as their arms slowly moved to embrace the other.  Stephanie quietly stood and slid out of the room, the heavy door shutting behind her with a soft click.  They obviously had to talk about their relationship and their future, and that wasn’t a conversation Steph wanted to sit in.

The halls of the boarding house were dark and chilly, and the heels of her boots clicked loudly in the silence.  When she found her room, there was a small layer of dust on some of the shelves, showing their disuse in her absence.  She set her phone on her desk, next to one of her journals with one last lingering look.  Caroline and Bonnie would probably be over before dawn to get the whole story of Augustine and she’d have to explain New Orleans again.

Steph stepped out of her shoes and shrugged out of her jacket before sliding into bed.  As her head hit the pillow and her hands clasped onto her belly, she fell to sleep, embraced by dreams of confinement, needles and blood.

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tbc


	9. hello darkness my old friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Show me how to lie  
> you’re getting better all the time  
> And turning all against the one  
> is an art that’s hard to teach  
> another clever word  
> sets off an unsuspecting herd.”

The morning brought a new, very vague voicemail from Klaus that took up the entirety of the message’s storage without truly saying anything at all.  She called him back.

“Well, well, I hope you’ve called to say you’ve missed me,” Klaus purred.  She could imagine his smirk and the way his eyes were probably twinkling with mischief.

“Not particularly,” Steph teased.

“I’m hurt.” 

She rolled her eyes and said, “Your message was suspiciously long and vague.” 

“It’s nothing,” Klaus said immediately.  At her disbelieving silence, he amended, “Nothing you need to worry about while you’re in Mystic Falls.  How are our friends there?  Been staked yet?  Run afoul another Original Menace?”

“Nice deflection,” Stephanie said wryly.  She’d figure out what was going on soon enough.  Before that, however, she had other important things to do.  “Listen, I need a favor.”

“What kind?”

“I need you to send someone to extract a college student and protect them for a while,” Stephanie explained.  “He’s in danger from a few different vampires, one of them quite possibly being Damon.”

“What did the poor sap do?”  There was amused pity in his voice.  “Steal his bourbon?”

“He’s related to some scientist creeps who screwed around with Damon a few decades ago.”  Steph rolled her lips together.  She wished the ones responsible were still alive; she’d have happily helped Damon slaughter _them_ instead _._   But she didn’t condone this murdering of innocents.

Klaus sounded put upon, but agreed.  “What makes his life so precious?”

“All life is precious,” Stephanie corrected. 

Klaus sighed.  “Fine.  I’ll send them to the border of the town, but no closer.  If your friend isn’t there by dusk, they’re leaving without the kid.”

“Thank you,” Stephanie said sincerely. 

After her call with Klaus, Caroline and Bonnie arrived.  She explained Elena and Damon’s capture and then her own adventures in New Orleans; her third retelling of _that_ story felt scripted, but was quick and managed to answer most of the girls’ questions. 

“That explains everything with Aaron this morning.”  Caroline frowned in thought, pursing her lips.

“What about Aaron?”  The girls turned.  Elena stood at the base of the staircase.  She’d straightened her hair and was dressed comfortably in jeans and light shirt.  One hand was trailing on the banister and the other placed upon her hip.  “What about Aaron?”  She repeated.  Elena’s face was pinched and if she were human, would likely have dark rings around her eyes from a restless night of tossing and turning.

“He stopped his family’s funds that were going to the Augustine Company so they can’t experiment on vampires anymore,” Bonnie explained.  She folded her hands in her lap and offered up a sympathetic smile.  “And he said to tell you he’s sorry for everything you went through because of Wes and his family’s legacy.”

“That’s . . . good,” Elena said hesitantly.  She descended the rest of the way down the staircase, limbs carefully restrained.  Steph’s brows furrowed and she shared a look with Caroline.

Her blonde friend titled her chin forward in understand.  Caroline turned to Elena and painted on a bright smile.  “How about you come with me and Bonnie to a ball tonight?  We should all hang out together.”

“Right,” Bonnie agreed.

 “I don’t really feel up to a dance, Care.”  Elena grimaced.

“I just thought that because of the stuff you’ve just been through,” Caroline said, “you might want some time to unwind, get drunk, Elena.”

“Tact,” Bonnie hissed under her breath.

Elena pressed her lips together.  “I’m fine, but sure.”

“I think I’ll stay here.”  Steph rested her elbows on her knees. 

“Come on, Steph.”  Caroline glowered.  “When I said all, I meant _all_.  We haven’t seen you in forever.”  Her bottom lip stuck out in something dangerously resembling a pout.

“When is it?” Stephanie asked, resigned.  Spending some time with her friends would be nice.

Caroline grinned brightly.  “Tonight!  Dress nicely,” She warned.  “Come on, ‘Lena, Bonnie.  We’ve got to go shopping to find something good to wear.  Something _new_.”  She grabbed Elena by the wrist and Bonnie followed behind, leading them out of the Boarding House, excited for a day out at the mall and then a night full of music and dancing.

The door hadn’t been closed twenty seconds when Damon descended the stairs, hair ruffled and a fake expression on his face.  He walked directly toward his booze cabinet.

“Did you break up with Elena?”  Stephanie stood and crossed the room to poke her brother in the chest.

“Yes.”  He pulled out his favorite and a glass tumbler.

“Why?” Stephanie crossed her arms and glared.

“I think you know,” Damon said.  He looked away from the booze and toward her; he twisted his lips into something ugly.  It was an expression she hadn’t seen in a while.

“Spell it out for me anyway,” She snapped.

“I’m a bad boyfriend, Stephanie, plain and simple.  It just took me a while to realize it.”

“And what exactly is your definition of a bad boyfriend?”

“One who hovers and sticks her nose in other people’s business.  Oh wait, that was the definition of an _annoying sister_.”  Damon lifted his nose arrogantly and poured himself a glass of bourbon. 

“Damon,” Stephanie pressed.

He glowered.  “I know you know that I’m a murderous dick, Stephanie.  I’m not _good_ for Elena.  I think somewhere deep inside I always knew it, but it didn’t click until I saw the look of _horror_ on her face and the sound of _disgust_ in her voice when she found out I’d been killing Whitmore’s all these years.  And she’s right to feel that way.  _I_ feel that way.”  He downed his drink and slammed the glass back down onto the cabinet.  The glasses inside shook ominously and the one in his hand cracked.

“Listen, Elena makes you happy.  You make her happy.”

“Stop.  Just . . . stop.  Drop it.”

“I don’t think I will –” Steph started angrily, but was rudely interrupted by the last person she wanted to see, ever.

“Hello Salvatore’s!  Wow, this is a gorgeous home you have here.”  Steph wondered if she had done something in a past life to piss off the universe so much that it was intent on making her life hell.  As she turned around, Enzo strolled into the living room, grinning ear to ear.  “Damon, friend, I’ve come to make amends.”  He leered a little at Steph.  “Miss Salvatore.  Lovely to see you again.”

“Oh God.”  Stephanie rolled her eyes. 

“Told you, already has a British boyfriend,” Damon said sourly.  He added, “And he kind of owns New Orleans now with a pretty ready army.  Just a friendly warning.”

“Ah, well, wasn’t here for that anyway.  Like I said, I’d love to make amends, Damon.”  Enzo’s attention wandered around the living room and fell upon the fireplace.  “Oh, I love a good fire, though it is ironic since you left me to burn in one.  May I light it?”

“No,” Stephanie said.

“Didn’t we already do this?”  Damon didn’t sound angry anymore, just resigned.  “You try to make me feel guilty, which worked by the way, and then I saved your life.  We’re even.”

Enzo chuckled and jerked a finger behind him.  Ignoring Damon’s words, he said, “I have a present for you.”

“Not interested.”  Stephanie said tightly.  “So would you kindly get out?”

“ _Not interested_.”  Enzo grinned brightly.  “Let me get you that gift, will you?”  He stepped back outside and carried a heavy black body bag across the foyer and dropped it in front of the fireplace he’d been admiring just a moment before.  The bag landed with a heavy, telling thump.  Steph heard the tell-tale signs of a slowly beating heart inside and the person’s gurgling intestines.

“What’s in the bag?”  Damon asked rhetorically.  Stephanie grimaced.

“More like _who_ ,” Enzo corrected.

“You haven’t killed them yet?”  Stephanie asked.  “In the time that I’ve know you, that seems so out of character.”

“Not yet, I haven’t,” Enzo promised.  He clapped his hands cheerfully and said to Damon, “So, I’ve done a bit of soul searching, had a trip to the barber shop and then discovered that after you escaped, you went on to extract the exact revenge you explained to me when we were cell mates.”

Damon made an unimpressed face.  “Well you know me; I love to keep my promises.”

“And so it occurred to me that perhaps I wrote you off too quickly,” Enzo said.  He shook his head as if ashamed in himself.  “For that, I am truly apologetic, old friend.  I’ve returned to start fresh.”

“Then what’s with the body bag?”  Steph asked.

“A part of our new start.”  Enzo leaned over and pulled down the zipper of the thick bag, slowly unveiling Aaron Whitmore.  “This, my friend, is someone we know.  He’s also a Whitmore, which leads me to my point; I want you to kill him.”

Damon coughed.  “Um.  What?”  Steph put her hands on her hips crossly.

“This is the last Whitmore,” Enzo stressed importantly.  “Kill him, and we can start anew, Damon, me and you.”

“Absolutely not,” Stephanie snapped.  “You want to kill an innocent, who in fact just took the time to cut off Wes’ funding to make sure none of these experiments happen again with his money?  Aaron helped and he doesn’t deserve to die.”

“He’s part of the problem,” Enzo said.  “We can’t start over if he’s still alive,” He added for Damon’s benefit.  A sudden intake of breath drew the three vampires’ attention to the body bag once more.  As Aaron began to stir, Stephanie went to his side.  To her surprise, Damon flashed forward as well, but not to Aaron – to Enzo.  Her brother caught his friend off guard as he twisted his neck and dropped him to the floor in a cold, unmoving huddle.

“So, what’s the plan?”  Damon demanded.  “Because he’s going to wake up pret-ty pissed.”  Stephanie grinned, relieved, even as Aaron was struggling to his feet, panicking.

“What’s going on?”  Aaron demanded.  “I told Caroline that –”

“She told me,” Stephanie interrupted.

“I overheard,” Damon commented.  “But Enzo wanted revenge and brought you over to have me kill you.”  When Aaron flinched, he added with a roll of his expressive eyes, “I’m not, though.”

“Someone’s coming to help you start over somewhere, safe,” Steph said softly.  “You’re to meet them at the _Welcome to Mystic Falls_ sign tonight as the sun sets.  If you’re not there, there’s nothing else we can do to help.”

“What about him?”  Aaron asked defensively.  “What if he comes after me?”

“You’ll be protected,” Steph promised.

“We’ll keep Enzo occupied until then,” Damon said a little sourly.  “So scram, kid, before I change my mind about killing you.”  Aaron’s heartbeat skyrocketed and he scrambled away from the body bag and out their front door, undoubtedly to find a bus or someone to hitchhike with.

“You could have been nicer,” Stephanie said.  She pushed the door shut and then turned to survey Enzo’s still body.

“Eh.”  Damon shrugged.  He narrowed his eyes at his (former) friend.  “Let’s put him in the cell downstairs in the basement; he won’t be going anywhere for a while.”  But there was a brief moment of hesitation on his face, like he couldn’t quite get behind putting his friend – one who’d been imprisoned for decades – into another jail cell.

“The perfect place for stashing unruly vampires,” Stephanie agreed, hoping to keep Damon’s resolve up.  “Come on; I’ll grab his head and you can get his feet.”

.

.

.

“Now, now, stop fussing.”  Wes’ new . . . accommodations for his experiments weren’t at all . . . _accommodating_.  His newest test subject was being held in the old building of the Blue Ridge Sanatorium.  He’d set up shop on the upper floor and restrained the vampire with chains and old leather straps on a creaky bed. 

“Who are you?”  The vampire choked.

“My name is Doctor Wes Maxfield,” he introduced.  “You’re Joey, right?”

“What are you doing to me?  Why are you doing this?” The vampire choked.

“Progress,” Wes replied.  He measured out the drug – the ripper virus, as Elena Gilbert had eloquently dubbed it – and prepared a dose to administer his subject with.  “I am actively progressing evolution at a much faster pace than usually seen.  And you just so happened to be in the right place at the right time, so you may help me usher in this new age.”

“How . . . poetic,” A new voice drawled, startling Wes.  He refused to let this newcomer see it though, and so slowly lowered the syringe in a parody of calm.  The vampire began struggling anew, screaming for release.  The woman walked forward, heels clicking on the linoleum floor and murmured a few words, forcing all sound from Wes’ subject to cease.  The vampire’s mouth continued to move, but nothing came out.

“A witch?”  Wes hazarded a guess.

The woman, so good at masking her thoughts and feelings, barely gave any indication of displeasure except for a slight downward twitch of her lips.  “No.”

“Who are you?”  Wes asked sharply.

“I’m judging your shitty lab,” The woman said with a smirk.  “Couldn’t you have done better than the abandoned Blue Ridge Sanatorium?”

“No,” Wes said tightly.  “Answer my question.  Name?”

“Sloan.”  The woman was gorgeous, an errant part of Wes’ mind admitted, but in a devious, snake-like way.  Her sloped eyebrows and sensual mouth framed her face, where the main attraction was her hypnotic eyes.  “I’m here to help, so you need to lose the arrogance.  I want to offer to fund your research.”

The offer seemed too good to be true.  “What do you know about my research?”  He moved away from his subject and around his tray of utensils to stand in front of this mysterious benefactor.

“I’ve been following the Augustine experiments for months, so in return for money and protection I have something I want you to analyze.”  She angled her head to the side, exposing her slender neck as if in deference.

Wes didn’t believe for a moment that she felt that he was superior to her.  “I’m sorry but I think I’m done getting into bed with strangers and I _don’t_ need your protection.”

“I beg to differ.”  Sloan’s eyes flashed with genuine malice. 

“Is that a threat, Sloan?”  Wes demanded.

“Just a promise that there are angry vampires out there that want revenge.  I could always leave an anonymous note detailing where you are and what you’re working on . . .”

Wes licked his lips.  She only wanted him to analyze something for her, and she would give funds and protection from the inevitable attack from his escaped subjects.  “Fine.  What do you want me to analyze?”

.

.

.

“So you’re really going to that dance?  You should wear something less . . . revealing.”  Damon sneered.  He leant against his sister’s door as she slipped into a dress that didn’t hide the swell of her belly at all.  He grimaced at the thought again; despite his earlier good natured response, he wasn’t particularly enthused that his sister was pregnant because of Klaus and some witchy shenanigans.

“I missed them,” Stephanie replied swiftly.  “And while I don’t really want to go dancing with a bunch of underage college kids, this is how Caroline and the others want to spend time together.”

Damon sighed.  “And the dress?”

“I don’t have anything bigger than this,” She sighed a little mournfully.  “This is already really tight.”  Steph looked up and added, “You should come to the ball, Damon.  You might have some fun.”

He glared.  “No.”

“Come and talk with Elena,” Steph wheedled.  “Settle things.”

“Things are settled.  You do know what kind of dance this is, right?”  Damon asked her.  “It’s called the Bitter Ball.  As in, all of those lonely people who are angsty and bitter because of their last break up.”

Stephanie grimaced.  “Really?”

“Caroline’s been talking about this for at least a week,” Damon said.  “Of course I know what the theme is.”

“Then you should come, since you’re the one who made Elena angsty and you’re bitter enough for the both of them,” Steph said.

Damon had his own plans though.  “I have something else lined up for tonight.  I might catch up with you later.”

Steph narrowed her eyes.  “You better not let Enzo out until dark, Damon.”

“Cross my heart, hope to die,” Damon drawled.  But behind his back, he’d crossed his fingers in a childish rebellion.  His sister rolled her eyes and moved passed him, and down the stairs.  When she was gone, Damon flashed to the cells in the basement.

Enzo was lying on the cot, staring up at the ceiling when he arrived.  “So my jailor’s returned.”

“Don’t pout; I’m here to let you out.”

“What’s the occasion?”  Enzo sneered.  “Is it even the same day?”

“Seriously, stop being dramatic.  So maybe we won’t kill Aaron Whitmore.  Let’s get Wes instead, because let’s be honest; killing Aaron accomplishes nothing.  Feeling Wes’ blood in your mouth, tearing out his beating heart; that will quench our thirst for revenge.  What do you say?”

Enzo lifted his head and his lips twitched upwards.  “I say that sounds like a plan, Damon.”

Damon lifted the key and shoved it into the metal clasp.  “First, we need a witch.”

.

.

.

“This is so much fun!  Aren’t you guys having fun?”

“You’re drunk,” Stephanie said as she gave Caroline a soft pat on the shoulder.  “Let’s find somewhere to sit for a moment, okay?”

“No,” Caroline moaned and twirled.  “I’m fine!”

Steph sighed and put an arm around her friend and towed her toward a round table where Bonnie was speaking unhappily with a girl around their age with long, curly blonde hair.  The girl seemed fairly upbeat in comparison and was animate in their conversation. 

“Excuse us,” Steph announced.  She gently set Caroline into the chair on Bonnie’s other side.  The bubbly vampire giggled and dropped her head to the table.  Steph unscrewed the cap on the water bottle she’d picked up and sat in next to Care’s hand.  “Drink this.”  Caroline giggled and snorted a little before picking up the water.

“Have you seen Elena?”  Stephanie asked Bonnie.

Bonnie gave her a long suffering look and pointed a slender finger toward the crowd.  “You mean the person masquerading as our best friend?  She’s over by the keg.”  Sure enough, when she looked up, Stephanie found Elena dancing on the table with another girl, right next to the enormous keg of beer, screaming the lyrics of whatever song was blasting over the speakers. 

“Why didn’t you get her?”  Stephanie asked.

“That was my fault,” The girl looked up and tried to put a guilty expression on her face, but only succeeding in looking a little smug.  “I detained Bonnie for a second to talk.”

“She knows,” Bonnie said quietly to the girl, mystifying Steph.

“Knows what?”  Stephanie asked.

“That I was a practicing witch,” Bonnie replied.  “Stephanie, this is Liv.  I met her the other day and saw that she was doing magic.”  While her overall tone was rather strained, there was something in her voice that was just a little bit gleeful to be around a magic user again.  The conflict was probably why she looked so _un_ happy.

“After a few . . . rough starts,” Liv said, “I realized that Bonnie could teach me some stuff.”

“Is that a good idea?”  Steph was concerned.  The thought of Bonnie using magic again was frightening, considering her last experiences with Expression, especially after Shane’s death.

Bonnie’s lips pressed together.  “Don’t worry about it, Stephanie.  I have everything under control.”

Worry still clung to her like a cloud of humidity, but Stephanie decided to leave it for the moment; someone had to get Elena down from that table.  “Keep an eye on Caroline for me, then?  She was over by the burning pit after she’d had a few too many.”  Bonnie agreed and the girl, Liv, began talking again.

Stephanie waded through the crowd, her stomach fluttering.  She could feel the baby just under her skin, which reminded her that she needed to feed soon.

“Elena, come down from there!”  The sea of people refusing to part, so Steph resorted to firmer pushes.  “Elena!”

Elena screamed louder, swinging her head back and forth.  Sighing, Steph hopped up onto the table which prompted cheering, but when they realized she was only taking their entertainment away, they began to boo.

“Party pooper!”  One of the young men shouted.  “Get your own dancer!”

Resisting the urge to hiss at him, Stephanie wrapped her arms around her second drunken friend and led her back to their little table.  Unfortunately, it was not as she’d left it.

“What’s going on?”  Stephanie clung tighter to Elena.  Damon and Enzo were crowded around the table, around Liv and Bonnie, while Caroline glowered up at them from her slouched position on the table.

“We need a little locator spell, nothing to worry about,” Enzo drawled.  Damon’s eyes traveled over to Elena and he rolled his lips.

“Elena, what the hell?”  He asked.

“I’m drunk,” Elena slurred.

“We can all see that, sweetheart,” Enzo laughed.

Damon gave him a dark look and was clearly resisting the urge to come and collect Elena in his arms.  He turned back to Bonnie.  “Well, can she do it?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Bonnie and Liv glared at each other.  “You’re not anywhere near ready,” She scolded.

“I’m strong,” Liv argued, “stronger than you think I am.”

“Oh, she’s got spunk,” Enzo said.  “I like you.”

“Why do you need a locator spell?”  Steph demanded.

“Well, since I’m being deprived of taking out Aaron, I’ve decided that speaking with Wes might help me with getting some closure.”  Enzo smiled with all of his teeth.

“Closure,” Steph repeated flatly.  “Damon, I thought we agreed to not let him out until later.”

“He’s not going after the kid because I made him a better deal,” Damon dismissed.  “Lighten up, Steph.”  He turned his attention back to Liv.  “You think you can do it?”

“Yes,” She said decisively.  “Bonnie just needs to tell me the words.”

All eyes turned to Bonnie.  The former witch clenched her fists.  “This is going to be dangerous,” she warned.  “And if it looks like something’s going wrong, I’m putting a stop to everything.”

Enzo and Damon smirked victoriously, while Elena had already forgotten their purpose for being at the table.  Caroline had fallen asleep at the table.

.

.

.

“This looks pretty shady,” Enzo said they strolled the halls of the sanatorium Liv’s spell had led them to.  Bonnie and Liv had taken Caroline and Elena back to the Boarding House to help them sleep everything off, while the remaining trio of vampires went to find Wes.

“It’s an abandoned building where they kept the insane for years,” Stephanie retorted.  “I hope you weren’t expecting roses and daisies.”

“Don’t make me turn this car around,” Damon said.  He was leading the way down the darkened hall of the second floor; the first floor hadn’t yielded any results except for some vandalism and an eerie feeling of being watched.

“Don’t act like you’re the responsible one here.”  Stephanie wished she’d forced the boys to wait while she’d changed into something more comfortable than a dress and heels. 

“Ouch,” Damon teased. 

“So what do you two say?  You want to do paper, scissors, stone to figure out who gives the progressive Doctor Frankenstein his fatal blow?”  Enzo asked.

“You can do it,” Damon said.  “I just want to see him die.”  He kicked open a door.  Behind it was a group of people standing, speaking together in low tones.  The trio of vampires froze in their tracks, surprised for they hadn’t heard their heartbeats before – and they should have.  “And you are?”  Damon asked.

“My backup,” Wes announced as he stepped into view.  His eyes traced their faces.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Damon groaned.  Stephanie felt the first traces of a headache forming in her skull.

“Witches,” She spat out.

“Oh no,” Wes corrected.  “These aren’t witches; they’re beings called Travelers.  And as far as I’m concerned, far superior.”

“What’s the difference?”  Stephanie choked.  The pain in her head was becoming fiercer and quickly starting to be debilitating. 

Wes didn’t answer her question.  “I don’t think we’ve become acquainted yet.  I’m Doctor Wes Maxfield.  On the one hand, you’re reacting like you’re a vampire, but yet you exhibit signs of pregnancy . . .”

Of course the vampire experimenting doctor would be interested in her baby.  “Fuck off,” She gasped as she sank to the floor.

Wes grinned and pulled out a syringe. She squirmed.  “This is for Damon, young lady.  But I think I think I’m going to keep you for something else.”  He jabbed the needle into Damon’s neck.  He called back behind him, “Sloan, I’m taking this one with me.  Do you have anything for vampire transport?”

Stephanie blacked out before she heard the answer.

.

.

.

“What was that?”  Enzo moaned right into Damon’s ear.

Damon’s head was foggy still, but quickly clearing.  He sat up a little dizzily and blinked the blurriness out of his eyes.  “Huh?”

“Wes injected you with something,” Enzo explained.  “Do you know what it was?”

Damon’s stomach sunk.  “I have a feeling.”

“Well?”

“He’s obsessed with his little scheme of destroying all vampires by making this cannibal serum.  It’s pretty self-explanatory.”  Enzo frowned pensively while Damon swung his head around.  “Steph?  Stephanie?”

“I think that damn doctor was talking about her before we went under,” Enzo said uncertainly.    

“What?”  Damon stumbled to his feet and heard the ratting of a cage.  “Wait.  That could be her.”  He led the way down the hall toward the sound of clanging metal with Enzo just a hair’s breadth behind him.  Damon burst into the room, but unfortunately, rather than Stephanie, he saw a vampire hanging strapped down to a metal table.

“Can you get me out of here?  I don’t want to be here anymore,” The vampire begged.

“Yeah, sure,” Damon murmured.  As he pulled loose the chains and leather straps, he asked, “Have you seen another vampire around here?  Short, female, kind of pregnant?”

“What?  No,” The vampire said.  “Wait, what are you doing?  What’s happening to your face?”  Damon wondered what he was talking about for a moment, until he felt his fangs descending from his gums.

He sighed.  “Karma.  Karma is happening to me.”  Already he could feel the bloodlust rising in him, beneath his skin.  “I’ve got to tell Steph that I totally understand what she feels now,” Damon muttered.  Then he lunged forward and attacked the vampire, teeth tearing into thin, pale skin.

.

.

.

tbc

 

 

 


	10. i wanna taste the way that you bleed, oh you're my kill of the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey brother, there’s an endless road to re-discover.  
> Hey sister, know the water's sweet but blood is thicker.  
> Oh, if the sky comes falling down for you,  
> There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do.”

The sky was clear, the temperature moderate.  The sun glinted off the pond that sat to the left of the farmhouse and to the right of the big red barn.  It was the perfect day, theoretically.  However, the greying body lying detached from its head in the living room of the antique farmhouse told a far different story.

“So you’re a vampire who feeds on other vampires.  We can work around this, pal.”

Damon gave Enzo a caustic smile.  “And the vicious urges to feed every eight hours will just _go away_ , huh?  Why are you even still here?”  He stride was long and purposeful; Damon had to find Steph before Wes performed any permanently damaging experiments.  Enzo tagging along had not been in the original plan, but his once-friend had come down with a sudden case of Jiminy Cricket and decided to _help_ him _._

“Listen, Damon.”  Enzo sounded surprisingly as he caught Damon’s elbow.  “I’m here because I consider it my fault that we were there for Wes to infect you.  If I hadn’t brought Wes’ brat to you, none of this would have occurred.”  Enzo lifted his hand and patted Damon on the shoulder.  He gave him a crooked grin.  “Besides, I don’t leave friends behind.”

“I didn’t think I was your friend,” Damon said warily.  He didn’t have a great many of those anymore.  Losing Enzo the first time had been hell.  Seeing him again had been both a blessing and a curse in the feelings it had brought back.

“Course you are,” Enzo said.  “Now, enough of this, I say.  We’ve got to find your darling little sister.”  A dull thudded knock interrupted the otherwise silent property, silencing their stilted banter.  Damon and Enzo’s eyes met.  “Do you think . . . ?”

“Only one way to find out.”  Damon strode to the front door of the farmhouse and threw it open. 

Wes’ smug appearance was instantly recognizable.  “Glad you were available to get the door, Damon.  I wasn’t sure if you’d be, ah, tied up.”

“Where are your witch friends?” Damon drawled.  “Oh yeah, wait, you said they were travelers, whatever the hell _that_ is.  Where’d you find them, Wes?  Did you shop around on craigslist?”

“They approached me.  Their leader, Sloane, came to with a . . . compelling offer.”

“Aren’t you like a scientist though?  I thought you guys hated magic.”  Damon crossed his arms irritably. 

Wes smirked.  “Well, yes, generally I consider magic cheating . . . but it just so happens that I like to cheat.”  A low buzzing registered in Damon’s ears, making him frown.  “You hear it yet?  My friends are enchanting this house to make sure that you and your friend are unable to step foot off of the premises as we speak.”

“Why?  What’s your agenda here?”  Damon curled his lip.

“You couldn’t possibly think that I’d let you ride off into the sunset, did you?  You’re my patient zero and I have a few tests to run.”

“A few tests?” Enzo growled; the sound was a low hum that reverberated in his chest.  He stood over Damon’s shoulder as an imposing shadow.

“Well, just one actually.”  Wes said, “Here’s my scientific question; now that you’re trapped in a house with your friend, how long can you go without feeding?”  He pursed lips.

“Okay, ignoring that for a minute, here’s _another_ question for you,” Damon said.  “Where’s my sister?”

“Safe.”  Wes smiled.  “Because we have a few hours at least until your hunger begins to become debilitating, I’m going to leave you to the traveler’s for a bit; I have another patient to attend to.”

Damon’s fangs dropped and he rammed his shoulder into the invisible barrier trapping him inside the farmhouse.  “Let her go,” he growled.

“Science can’t be rushed,” Wes admonished.  “I’ve barely even started experimentation.”  He gave Damon a thoughtful look.  In a move to purposefully rile him up, Wes asked, “Say, do you suppose if I extracted the fetus it would still survive at this stage, considering it has to be at least fifty percent vampire?”

Anger made Damon vision turn red.  “Leave them alone.”

“This is a scientific marvel, Damon,” Wes said, sounding unapologetic.  “I’ll be back this evening to check on your progress.  Until then, good luck.”  He gave Damon and nod and turned on his heel.

.

.

.

“Ugh, whoever said vampires don’t get hangovers was exaggerating.  I feel squicky,” Caroline moaned.  She plopped down at the kitchen table and made a mournful noise when she realized she’d forgotten to grab a cup of coffee.  Next to her, Elena was sipping a white mug filled with thick, coagulating blood.  Caroline wrinkled his nose.  “How old is that?”

Elena made a face as the blood slid down her throat.  “Too old,” She muttered and set the mug back onto the table.

“How did we get to the Boarding House?”  Caroline mused thoughtfully.  Her memories of the night before were rather unfocused and a bit out of reach. 

“I brought you here,” Bonnie said dryly as she took a seat across from her friends.  “You were both out of your heads,” she admonished.  “After I helped Liv locate Wes for Damon, Steph and Enzo, I brought you home.” 

“They went after Wes?”  Elena’s brows furrowed.

“I think I remember that,” Caroline said definitely.  Then she frowned.  “They should have been back by now, though, don’t you think?”

“They’re probably fine,” Bonnie grumbled and stuffed her nose into her steaming cup of coffee.  She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply, as if she could absorb the caffeine through osmosis.  Caroline was worried though, and a quick glance at Elena told her that she wasn’t alone in her fear.

“I don’t know, Bonnie . . . they would have called at least.”  Elena mused.  Bonnie shrugged doubtfully.

“I think we should check on them.  Where did Liv say Wes was last night?”  Caroline’s concern was waking her up and that coffee was feeling more unnecessary as the seconds ticked by.

“A sanatorium in West Virginia I think,” Bonnie said slowly.  “But-” The shrill ringing of Elena’s phone made the girls startle.

“It’s Damon,” She breathed and the relief in her voice was palpable.  “Hello?”  Caroline sat straight in her chair and leaned forward in her eagerness to hear about her best friend.

Instead of Damon’s reassurance of their safety, it was Enzo’s cultured tones that spilled out through the receiver.  “We have a bit of problem . . .”

.

.

.

Her head felt heavy with fog when she woke up and her bleary eyes felt crusted shut.  When she lifted an arm to rub them, Stephanie found it restricted down to a table.  Her ears worked fine though, and she could hear every word Dr. Wes Maxfield uttered.  “This is fascinating; you appear to be in your eighteenth or nineteenth week of pregnancy.  Which should obviously be impossible . . . this is a medical marvel.”

When Steph was finally able to open her eyes, she saw Wes standing next to an ultrasound machine that was focused on her womb.  Her dress was gone and she lay on the examination table in nothing but her under things, strapped down like Elena was when Steph had gone to rescue her.  Blinking, she saw wires attached to her . . . everywhere.  There were test tubes of dark blood just lined up on the counter, waiting to be taken away and picked apart, analyzed strand by strand.

She swallowed thickly and her light eyes darted around the medical lab and to the second man in the room.  He stood stiffly at the door, and was dressed in casual day clothes and looked generally uninterested.  But when his gaze locked onto hers, Stephanie saw a quiet irritation and frustration simmering below the surface.  Interesting.  She look stock of where she was and decided it was an expensively funded lab with marble counters and pristine white floors.  The tools gleamed in the fluorescents.  And her phone sat in a glass cabinet over the sink.

“This, Stephanie, is perhaps the most perplexing thing I’ve ever witnessed,” Wes continued and lifted up a vial for her to see.  “This is some of the amniotic fluid that I extracted and I looked at a tissue sample . . . . Your child exhibits extremely accelerated healing capabilities already.”

“You stuck a needle in my baby?”  She would have been shocked at the unethical form of experimentation if she hadn’t already known what he and the Augustines had already done to countless other vampires before her.

“Of course,” Wes said easily.  “I’m going to examine this more closely to see if there are any other properties I might be able reverse engineer for use in the medical field.”  He gave her a serene smile.  “I think we’re going to be working together for a long time, Miss Salvatore.  You’re going to help me with some of my lifelong research.   And don’t worry,” he added, “after Damon starts infecting others with the Ripper Virus – as Elena so eloquently dubbed it – I’ll make sure you and your son are spared.  There are far too many discoveries to be had before you both perish.”

Stephanie licked her lips and rattled her chains as Wes picked up his samples to cross examine.  As he disappeared out the door, she pressed her lips firmly together to keep from screaming in frustration.  She sagged back in her restraints and glowered at the ceiling.  When a hand skimmed the skin around her ankles, Stephanie snarled.

“Do not bite the hand that feeds you,” a voice rumbled.  “Or is this case, frees you.”

Stephanie’s jaw tightened as the traveler murmured several phrases under his breath that made her shackles pop open, unlocked.  “Why?”  She asked as she immediately too to her unsteady feet.

The traveler met her eyes with that same irritation behind them.  “My leader hired Doctor Maxfield to analyze samples for _her._ Sloane does not want him getting sidetracked by strange vampires like you; you were not part of the original deal.  So you are being released to keep Doctor Maxfield from distraction.”

Stephanie kept her eyes on the traveler, making sure she never had her back to him, and she took the time to smash the vials of blood Wes had collected.  She grabbed a lab coat off of a rack and her cell phone from its glass cabinet, and wrapping the coat tightly around herself, flashed out of the laboratory.  The sun was setting, making shadows stretch yards ahead.  Some other time she’d had admired the view.

Dialing Damon with one hand and keeping the lab coat closed with her other, Steph kept aware of her surroundings in case more travelers showed up or Wes came careening around a corner in some kind of car.

“Stephanie?”  Damon’s voice was shrill.

“Where the hell are you?”  Steph asked. 

“Where am I?  Where are _you_?”  He sounded pained.  She could hear the thud of something heavy resembling chains in the background.

“Naked and in the middle of nowhere,” Steph replied tightly.  “Were those chains I heard?”

“Enzo has to tie me up because if he doesn’t, I’m going to rip his head off,” Damon explained.

“Isn’t that my shtick?”

“Not anymore, sister.  Thanks to Wes, now it’s _our_ shtick.  Listen, get call Elena and let her know you’re okay and then go back to the Boarding House.  She’s coming out here to get me with Caroline – against my wishes, of course, because _Enzo called them_ – but you should stay safe.”

“You must be joking,” Steph said flatly.  As she made her way into town, she garnered a number of stars and quite a few dirty looks from protective mothers who were covering their children’s eyes.  She slipped into a corner store and into their tourist section to grab some clothes.  The cashier’s eyes bugged out and then he pointed at the sign at the front window: NO SHIRTS/SHOES, NO SERVICE.

Stephanie deliberately turned her back on him and snatched up a pair of jeans.

“I’m not joking; I’m looking out for you,” he argued.

“In that case, I’ll see you soon, right after I get the address from Elena.  Bye Damon.”  Stephanie hung of the phone.

“Excuse me, miss, you have to be wearing clothes to get service –” The cashier put a hand on her shoulder.

“ _You’re going to leave me alone and let me have these clothes free of charge.”_   He blinked and stepped back toward the cash register.

“Thank you,” Stephanie huffed and took an oversized shirt, some panties, jeans and sneakers.  “Now, where’s the bathroom?”

.

.

.

“You’re going to be alright, mate.  They’re going to come and we’ll sort something out,” Enzo soothed.

Damon shook the chains he was wrapped up in and gave him a dirty glare.  “Or, they’ll come and I’ll feed off of them.”

“Well, those are also options.  As long as I’m okay . . .” He smirked.  “Kidding.  Sort of.” 

A loud shot boomed in the front yard then, shattering the glass from the windows and a bullet buried itself into Enzo’s shoulder.  He grunted in surprise and pain, and Damon jerked in his chair.  Enzo looked up and found Wes leading the way with a pistol in hand with travelers chanting behind him like some sort of bizarre army. 

“If you were aiming for my heart, you missed,” Enzo snarled.

“Don’t worry,” Wes said, “I wasn’t.  Chains were a good idea, you know, because now I can see just how strong he becomes when enraged.”  Damon, eager to please, let the veins across his face appear and his fangs drop in anticipation as he strained against his restraints.  Seconds later, he found the strength inside of him to rip them off.  Wes seemed surprised.  Good. “Conclusion: very strong.”

But the scent of Enzo’s blood was tantalizing and his freedom was gone, replaced by a noose around his neck named bloodlust.  He dove at his friend and latched onto his neck, tearing in the artery there.

“Damon, stop!”  Enzo pleaded.  “Please, Damon stop!  Damon, Damon, stop it!”  Enzo shoved Damon’s chest and he stumbled to his knees, choking.  Enzo stepped back and stared as Damon spluttered out blood and spit as his hands ringed his neck.  Enzo spun around and demanded, “What did you do to him?”

“My friends here raised the acidity of your blood, though I’m on sure about the particulars,” and he raised his voice, “I suggest you leave before the spell wears off.”

“And go where, with you?” Enzo growled.

“I need one more favor from you and then I’ll let you go, for good.  Of course, your other option is to stay in here with your cannibal friend and you’ll die.”  Wes tilted his head.  “The travelers have raised the spell on the house temporarily . . .”

“Go, Enzo,” Damon hissed.  “Go!”

Enzo licked his lips indecisively.  Then he flashed out of the farmhouse, disappearing out of Damon’s sight.

“Hey, Wes,” Damon choked after his friend had gone.  “You know what I found out a bit ago?”

“Hm?”  Wes hummed quizzically.

“Stephanie got out of whatever prison you had her in.”  He smirked when Wes’ face tightened.

“And how would you know this?”

“She called me, asshole.”  Damon spat at Wes’ feet.  “Looks like your friends didn’t do such a good job guarding her cell.”

Wes pressed his lips together and forcefully shrugged.  “I got some samples to look at.  And of course, I have no doubt that she’ll be by to rescue you sorry hide.”

Damon threw back his head and forced loud laughter.  “Man, you are dumb.  She’s not coming here because I never told her where I am.  Looks like you’re out of luck, buddy.”

“I still have you, Damon.” 

Damon’s nostrils flared.  “That you do,” he quietly agreed.  “That you do.”

.

.

.

Stephanie found the farmhouse easily enough with Caroline’s rapid fire speech in her ear, directing her there.  She met up with her two friends on a hill that was less than a quarter of a mile away from Damon’s location.

“Steph!”  Caroline threw her arms around her and Stephanie returned the embrace.  “We were worried!  How’d you escape?”

“A traveler let me loose,” Steph said into Caroline’s shoulder. 

“What?” Caroline sounded stupefied and Elena’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“He said I was distracting Wes from his deal with Sloane, the leader of the travelers,” Stephanie explained with arched brows.  “It was a stroke of luck.”  Elena reached out her hand, which Steph took and squeezed in her own for reassurance.  “But enough of that mess.  Let’s get Damon out of this.”

“How do we do that?”  Caroline asked thoughtfully.  “Enzo said that these guys have some kind of spell on the house so that they can’t leave.”

“If we kill the spell casters, then the spell should disintegrate,” Elena said quietly.  Caroline gasped and Steph fixed Elena with a surprised look.

“You’d be okay with murdering them?”  Stephanie asked with pursed lips.

Elena clenched her fists.  “If it means Damon’s safety, then yes.  I am.”  She radiated hostility. 

Steph didn’t let her gaze waver.  “How about we knock them out if possible and leave killing as a last resort.  For now.”

“Okay.”  She led the other two girls down the hill and they split up; Caroline went around the back, and Steph the front.  Elena walked right up to the front door and stepped over the threshold.  Two travelers stepped in after her.  “Quickly, Care,” Steph whispered.  She wrapped deft hands around a man’s head and bashed it into the ground.

When he went down, the nearest woman turned to his defense and raised her hands and began to chant.  Steph darted in and ripped her heart from her chest.  The travelers caught on then, and pulled in tight around the farmhouse, around Damon and Elena inside.

“Damon!  Elena!”  She shouted.  A man and two women raised their voices and turned their attention to Steph; a pounding headache built up in her temples that sent her to her knees.  Through the pain, Stephanie heard Elena and Damon talking.

“We’re here to help you.”

“You can’t help me, Elena.  I feed on vampires now and you’re a vampire.  Do yourself a favor and leave.”

“I am not afraid of you.”

“Get out!”

“No.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

The pain brought a roaring to her ears and made any further conversation drown out.  She curled up on the ground and squeezed her eyes shut.  For what felt like an eternity, she lay there.

And then

And then the pain just . . . stopped. 

Hesitantly, Steph looked up.  The travelers were gone; they had disappeared into the night.  She slowly uncurled her body and struggled to her feet, which was made difficult because of her belly.  Her son fluttered inside of her, reminding Steph of his presence.  She put a soothing hand where the baby had moved.  Then she strode to the farmhouse, where she found Caroline hovering around a dazed looking Elena, and Damon.

“What happened over here?”

“The travelers . . . took a bucket of blood from Damon and me.”  Elena sounded puzzled. 

“It’s true,” Caroline added nervously.  “I knocked out a few of them and then some others froze me in place and I watched as they kept Damon and Elena over by the fireplace and just drained blood from both of them.  They didn’t say anything either; it was so weird!”

“Yeah,” Elena murmured.  “Weird.”

“How are you feeling?”  Stephanie directed at her brother.  His and Elena’s hands were clasped tightly together; they’d apparently made up in between shouting at each other and being held hostage by blood thieving travelers.  “And where did Wes go?”

“I only need to feed every eight hours,” Damon muttered.  “So after I fed off of both Enzo and Elena before I was forcibly removed, I think I got my fix for the next few hours.  Of course, I still think it is way too dangerous for any of you to be around me, ever.”

Caroline sent him a firm look.  “Don’t even think about a midnight snack, okay?”

“Alright, enough,” Stephanie interrupted.  “Wes?”  She prompted.

“He just disappeared,” Elena told her.  “The travelers must have taken him with them after they took our blood.”

“So we don’t need to worry about him for a bit, then,” Stephanie muttered to herself.  She heaved a heavy sigh and put a hand on the small of her aching back.

“Let’s go home,” Caroline suggested when she saw.  “Everyone’s had a very trying day and I think we could all use some rest.  I’ll go over to my mom’s.  Bonnie’s at her house.  So you three will have the Boarding House to yourself.”  She put an arm around Steph’s shoulders and pulled her along toward the hill they’d stood on so recently.  “My car’s over here,” Caroline added for Damon’s benefit.

“Wonderful; we get to ride in Barbie’s BMW.”

“First of all, it’s not a BMW, and second of all, I hate when you call me Barbie . . .”

.

.

.

“So you and Elena?”

Damon threw back his bourbon and relished the burn of it in his throat.  The fire was bright in front of him and his sister as they sat together in the love seat.  Elena was curled up on the couch, an afghan blanket thrown over her as she slept.

“What about us?”

“Did you work things out?” Stephanie probed.

Damon turned away.  “As much as we _can_ with me now jonesing for vampire blood.”

“We’ll figure it out, Damon,” Stephanie reassured.  “I know what it feels like to be out of control because the mere presence of a beating heart . . . I can help you.  I can teach you to control it.”

“Vampire blood isn’t exactly as readily available as human blood you know,” Damon snapped.  “Even if you could help me, which I doubt.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Steph said.  “I’ll try as best as I can to get your thirst under control.  And Elena and I can donate blood for you to have every eight hours.  This isn’t going to be as horrible as you think it is.”

He snorted contemptuously.  “Right.”  His gaze wandered over Elena again and he felt a pang in his heart.  “I’m going to go up to bed.”  Damon stood and turned to his sister.  “I’m glad you’re okay.  I was worried for a minute there that something would happen to you and . . .” his gaze dropped.

“Nah,” Stephanie said.  “You know me.”

“Yes.  Yes I do.”  He dropped a kiss on her forehead and then swept Elena up into his arms.  “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Damon.”

He took the steps one at a time and was a careful as he could be as he laid Elena down in his bed.  Then he began to methodically trip down, taking off his shoes and socks first, and then his shirt.

“Damon?”  Elena’s voice was a little drowsy.

“Go back to sleep,” he murmured.  He dropped his pants to the floor and crawled into bed next to Elena.  Damon snuffled into her neck and kissed the junction there.  She reached her hand back and clasped his, twining their fingers together.  Then Elena let go of his hand and Damon prepared to give her space, but instead she slipped into his lap and put her hands on his shoulders.  He blinked in surprise.

“Let me make love to you,” she whispered.

“Elena . . .”

“Damon.”  Elena kissed him.

He slid his hands around her, resting them on the curve of her hips.  “Okay,” he said.

Elena smiled.  “Okay.”

.

.

.

When Stephanie heard the telltale signs of her friend and her brother making up, she slipped out of the Boarding House – now dressed – and made her way back to the lab where Wes had held her captive hours before.  Just as she had guessed, he was there, fiddling with something in a needle.

“Hello, doctor,” she drawled.

Wes spun around.  “You.”

“Me,” Steph said softly.  “Nice place you’ve got here.  Buy this with the money Sloane gave you?”

“How do you know about that?”

“One of your traveler friends set me free and told me.”  She shrugged.  “Listen, Doc, I have a problem.  You infected my brother with that insane virus you created.  Now, you need to give me the antidote.”

“What, so he can go back to feeding on innocent people?”

“Let’s not pretend that’s why you infected him,” Stephanie said.  “Give me the antidote.”

Wes laughed.  “Do you not understand?  There is no antidote.  I didn’t make one and I wouldn’t know how to start even if I wanted to.”

“Then you’re of no further use to me or anyone else,” Stephanie said flatly.  She put her hands on either side of his head and twisted.  The doctor fell to the ground, dead.  “That’s for trying to hurt my baby and for torturing Damon, you sick bastard.”

She turned on her heel and left his remains on the cold ground, lifeless eyes staring emptily into space.

.

.

.

tbc


	11. there's a ghost in the mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “They will parade upon your victory  
> You'll put a smile upon their faces  
> The world will be yours for the taking  
> The story you birth will be ageless  
> Just learn to love pain and be patient.”

_._

Caroline huffed out a frustrated breath.  Wes’ lab, which Stephanie had directed her to, was basically one big, hot mess; most of his research materials and files, not to mention his many machines were damaged and in disarray.  The room still smelled of blood and death, even though Steph had disposed of the body last night.  Caroline shuddered.  While they’d all been sleeping, Stephanie had come here and killed their professor.  Not that she didn’t think he deserved it . . . Wes was one bad dude.

“The travelers really cleaned this place out,” Caroline grumbled.  They must have been watching the lab or something to have gotten here so quickly, but that begged the question, Caroline thought, why would they have let Steph kill their researcher?  Surely they’d have stopped – even killed – Stephanie before she as much as stepped foot in the very same neighborhood as Wes if they’d been watching.

Caroline stuck her hands into a box filled with papers and recording devices and her finger brushed up against something.  It clicked and she jumped at the noise.  “Scared me,” she said uneasily and tried to laugh off her fright.  Moments later, Wes’ tinny voice came out of the recorder. 

“I’ve managed to extract werewolf venom – of all things – from the tissue sample from the male fetus.  It’s diluted and weak, and raises more questions of the parentage.”  A frown tugged at her lips.

“So werewolves exist after all.”  Caroline dropped the recorder and whirled around.  Her eyes rounded in surprise.  “I’d always thought that they were a joke.”  The man was tall, accented and radiated sleazy.  “I’m Enzo.”  He smirked.

Caroline huffed, “ _The_ Enzo.”  She cocked a hip and put her hand on it while staring at the man she’d heard tales of from her friends.

“No, I’m the other one.”  His pink lips curled up into a teasing smile.

“Right, _Other_ Enzo, I don’t know what it is that you’re after, but I don’t want any part of it,” Caroline said firmly.  “Go away.”  She folded her arms defensively and glared pointedly.  “Bye.”

But instead of kindly leaving, Enzo raised his hands as if to placate _her._   “I’m here for the same reason that you are; I want this vampire virus to go away, out of our lives for good.”

“Why?” Caroline asked with a keen eye on the other vampire’s moments.  Although he’d been the one to alert Stephanie of where Damon was last night, Enzo had been long gone when they’d arrived.  Caroline thought that that was pretty suspicious.

“I guess Damon forgot to tell you that we reconnected when we ended up locked in a farmhouse together.”  He sighed as if he were truly disappointed.  “And I did tell you where we were,” he reminded her.

“Yeah, well, where were you when we got there, huh?”  Instead of giving him time to come up with some perfect excuse, she rushed to add, “Just stay out of it, okay?  Leave us alone.”  Caroline brushed passed him, recorder in hand to destroy the evidence, when he called out to her.

“Then I suppose you’re not the least bit surprised that _I_ have the antidote.”

She froze in her tracks.  “ _What_ did you just say?”  Caroline spun around and gestured at him wildly in surprise.

Enzo grinned satisfactorily, like the cat that had eaten the canary.  Grinning, he said, “You heard me.  The travelers want to make a deal, see.  All you have to do is bring Damon do them.”

“That sounds like a really dumb trap that we are most certainly not going to walk into, thanks,” Caroline sniffed.  Her shoulders dropped a little though; she’d been hopeful for a brief moment.  They could have cured Damon and then everyone would have been happy . . . she wasn’t his biggest fan, but Caroline didn’t really want him to suffer – and make everyone around him suffer too, consequently.  She pulled her wool jacket tighter and gave Enzo a plastic smile.

“It’s not a trap,” Enzo pressed.  “I just want to help Damon and the travelers can heal him.  They just need his help with something.”

“Help with what?”  Caroline demanded.  “He’s – he’s Damon Salvatore, native drunk to Mystic Falls.  What could they possibly want from him?”

“They don’t want anyone to know what they’re up to,” Enzo said, “specifically, any witches or former for that matter, in your company.”  He shrugged.  “They’re very . . . anti-witch.  So Sloan, the leader that is, didn’t want me to tell you anything before she saw Damon.”

“Well, that’s – that’s just discriminatory,” Caroline huffed irritably.  She threw her arms up and barely resisted the urge to stomp her feet in frustration.  “Bonnie’s not bad!  And Liv’s – okay, she’s kind of annoying but I don’t think she has an agenda against your special magic wielding buddies.”

“You never know,” Enzo said cryptically. 

“Argh!”  Caroline bellowed.  “This is a trap, obviously,” she repeated.  “Why are you falling for it?”

He raised a finger and waved it at her threateningly.  “I’ll give you one hint, but that’s it and you have to promise you’ll bring Damon and come with me to meet the travelers.”

Caroline sniffed.  “If it’s a good enough hint.”

Enzo rolled his eyes.  “For the love – fine.”  He leaned forward and Caroline couldn’t the anticipatory jitters she received.   “Doppelgängers.”

Her face fell almost comically.  “Oh, you have got –”

.

.

.

“– to be kidding me.  More doppelgängers?”  Like Katherine and Elena hadn’t been enough, Stephanie thought to herself.  The memory of Silas’ last face tickled her brain again, for the first time since they’d killed him.  At the time – and then after, for a while – Steph had wondered why he’d chosen Damon’s form to appear in.  But with this reoccurrence of doppelgängers and the fact that the travelers wanted D _amon_ . . . well.  Stephanie didn’t really believe in coincidences anymore.

Caroline had brought her news to the Boarding House along with Starbucks and a recording device she’d pushed into Steph’s fingers.  At Steph’s questioning look, Caroline had just shaken her head and said, “Wes.”  Then they’d gathered in the living room together.

“Did he say anything else?”  Elena rested her chin on fist.  She’d sat thoughtfully on the arm of the couch, one of her hands lying possessively on Damon’s knee.  Her fingers kneaded into the fabric that separated the two of them.

Caroline shook her head.  “Nothing.  He gave me the address I’m supposed to give you,” she nodded to Damon, “and he gave me his little hint.”

“What has Elena got to do with any of this?”  Damon asked.   He was vibrating under Elena’s hand on the seat of the couch, a drink in one hand and the other was occupied by grasping Elena’s wrist atop his knee.

“What if Elena’s not the doppelgänger they’re talking about?”  Stephanie mused.  “They didn’t even ask for her.  They seem to want you specifically, Damon.”

“You’re not saying that Damon’s a doppelgänger too?”  Caroline scrunched up her nose.  “There could be more of him running around out there?”

“Technically, yes,” Stephanie said, “but remember, they wouldn’t be _Damon_.  They would just be people that looked like him.”  Silas, she thought, was probably the first.  “If it’s true, there were probably dozens of people before Damon.  Maybe Silas being one of them.”

Caroline clapped her hand to her mouth and Elena pressed her lips together.

“You really think I’m Silas’ doppelgänger?”  Damon demanded. 

“I’m just theorizing.  We’re not going to find anything out by sitting here,” Steph pointed out.  “We’re going to have to go to them to find out what’s really going on.”

“I’m coming,” Elena immediately said.

“I think you should stay here, actually.”  Stephanie stood, rubbing her hands on her thighs.  “Since this appears to be all about doppelgängers, then we shouldn’t make it easy for them to pick you off.  Even though they’re not asking for you now, the travelers _did_ take blood from you both.  I think Caroline should stay with Bonnie at Whitmore to keep you safe, and in case we need backup.”

“Hey.”  Caroline frowned.  “I don’t think you guys should go alone.”

“What are our options?” Stephanie asked.  “Look at this realistically; all of this stuff could be one huge trap to get Elena and Damon for some weird spell and maybe they want us leave Elena alone, unprotected.  We can’t let that happen.”

Caroline and Elena exchanged looks, but reluctantly agreed, which Steph was thankful for.  The situation they’d found themselves in was something altogether strange and unnerving because they didn’t know what the travelers’ true motives were.  So Caroline and Elena watched, stiff and unhappy as Steph and Damon left them for the unknown.

As Stephanie and Damon slid into his car to prepare for their little road trip, her lower back gave a sharp twinge of pain.  She reached back and massaged the area with the area with the heel of her palm.

Damon looked over and arched a brow.  “Problems?”  He purred.

Steph gave him a tight smile.  “Just drive.” 

“Pregnancy bites, huh?”  Damon continued, but he turned on the ignition and pulled out of their long driveway and onto the road.  “Regret that roll in the sack yet?”

“Damon, not now.”  The sharp pain had dulled to a manageable throb, but was still present and irritating.  Her son fluttered in her belly as if to apologize and she removed her hand from her back to rub the place he’d moved.  He fluttered around again, which brought a smile to her face.  Steph would make sure he was loved when he came into the world. 

“Do you suppose that I’m really a doppelgänger?”  Damon drew her attention away from her baby. 

Stephanie shifted in her seat.  “At this point in our lives, I’d say just about anything is possible,” she said wryly.  Their drive wasn’t long, but involved a lot of twists and turns.  When they pulled into what looked to be an old train yard with several boxcars lining the tracks, they were grateful.  What greeted them was a group of averagely dressed people standing about, looking in their direction. 

“I guess that’s the welcoming party.”

“You don’t say,” Steph murmured.  She narrowed her eyes at a familiar dark head of hair.  He was beckoning them forward.  “Enzo.  What a pleasant surprise.”  Damon parked his car and they slipped out together, and started to walk side by side.  A pretty dark haired woman stood with Enzo, apart from the others, and they too stepped forward to greet the Salvatore’s.

“Alright, we’re here.  Now give me the antidote,” Damon said.

“First, we have to find something,” the woman said.  “I’m Sloan.  I believe you’ve already met my travelers when they took yours and Elena’s blood . . . and when _she_ was decimating them to get to you.”  Sloan inclined her head toward Stephanie.

“What do you need to find?  And what does it have to do with Damon?”  Stephanie asked.

“Another one of you.”  Sloan nodded toward Damon.

“So I am a doppelgänger.  Huh.”  Damon pulled a thoughtful face.  “What do you need the pseudo me for?”

“You didn’t know?”  Sloan asked curiously.

“Yeah, uh, no,” Damon said and rolled his eyes.  “You didn’t answer my question – why do you want my doppelgänger, since apparently there’s one of those running around somewhere?  Poor guy might not deserve whatever you’ve got coming to him.”  He flashed a devious smile.  “Especially if he’s as good looking as moi.”

“Apparently doppelgänger blood is special, especially if it’s the last two currently on this plane of existence,” Enzo explained hurriedly, sliding his gaze toward Sloan, whose face had tightened at the questioning.

“Which was why you took Damon and Elena’s blood,” Steph said.  “Why is it so special?”

“Don’t think I haven’t asked,” Enzo bemoaned, giving Sloan another quick glance.  “However, the thing is, unless the last living doppelgänger is gone and there are only two of you – Damon and Elena that is – then mixing their blood doesn’t do what they need to do it for their leader Marcus.”

“Markos,” Sloan corrected sternly.

“So what, you’re going to do a locator spell on this guy and then kill him?”  Stephanie demanded with clenched fists.

“It’s more of a linking spell,” Sloan said.  “I’ll link up Damon and his other, and he’ll see some images of his current location, to which we’ll track him.  Then we take him out.”

Damon and Stephanie looked at each other and then again at Sloan and Enzo.  “I think we need to talk about this.  Way over there,” Damon said and pointed to his car.  “You up for that, Steph?”

“Definitely.”  Steph pursed her lips and grabbed Damn’s elbow, leading the way out of the train yard and away from the boxcar.  “The hell is wrong with those people?”  She hissed when they were out of earshot.

“Besides the fact that they need my magical blood?” Damon asked incredulously.  His cheek twitched.  “Yeah, that was weird.  Between the two of us and Enzo, we could probably take them.  Maybe you could call in Klaus for some clean up.”

“Or we could say we need some time to think about this and then I’ll call Klaus and see if he knows anything about this Markos guy,” Stephanie said flatly. 

“Works for me.”

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.

“You’re coming back to the Quarter if I have to drag you back, kicking and screaming.”

Steph’s brows rose and next to her, Damon snickered. “That bad?”  She shushed him.

“Who is he?”  Steph asked.  “The travelers were very cagey about the whole thing.  And they really wanted doppelgänger blood.” 

“Elena’s blood – and Damon’s too, I suppose – has magical properties because of what kind supernatural creature she is.  There are a number of reasons why they might want it, but it seems to me that they want to resurrect their leader, Markos,” Klaus explained grimly.  “Bloody hell, Stephanie.  It’s not safe there if that’s what they’re doing.  Markos is . . . his capacity for evil in unfathomable.”

“Pot calling the kettle black,” Damon sang.  He clapped his hands behind his head and leaned back against the passenger door.

“I’m going to speak with a few of my witch contacts, love,” Klaus blithely ignored Damon’s interruption, “and I’ll get back to you soon.  Don’t do anything more with the travelers until then.”  He hung up.

Stephanie glared at her cell phone.  “Come on.  Let’s go back down.”

“I’m sorry?”  Damon squinted.  “Did you just say you wanted to go back to the group of travelers when Klaus the Magnificent Evil just told you that this Markos guy _has an unfathomable capacity for evil?_ ”

“He wants to keep me locked away and protected,” Steph protested.  “I’m not going to sit around while he saves the day.”

“If we go back down there, they’re going to expect us to help located my doppelgänger!  The poor handsome devil won’t have a chance,” Damon said.  Steph turned her glare upon him.

“We still need your cure.  Don’t you need to feed soon?”  At the reminder, Damon’s cheek twitched and he swallowed thickly.

“I can wait,” Damon denied.  Stephanie turned around and started down the slope toward the train cars.  “Steph?  Steph!”  He followed after her. 

“We just need to bide some time,” Stephanie said quietly, “and make sure they give us the cure to your virus.  Then Klaus can do whatever the hell he wants like he always does anyway.”  They walked back into the travelers’ camp, where Sloan seemed to be waiting vigilantly for them return.

“Well?”

“I’ll let you link me up,” Damon said.

“Only on the condition that you give him the anti-virus first,” Steph interjected.  She folded her arms firmly across her chest.

“We link Damon to his doppelgänger, get a location, and then I’ll give it to him,” Sloan corrected sternly.

“We’re giving you what you want,” Steph argued.  “So just give us a show of faith that you’ll hold up your end of the bargain.”

“I can’t do that,” Sloan said.  Her lips thinned in growing irritation.  “Now,” she addressed Damon, “sit down now if you want the antidote.”  She pointed to the wooden chair they’d set up specifically for him.  Damon gave Steph a light pat on the shoulder, and then sat down as instructed. 

“Lay it on me,” he said grimly.  He gripped the arms of the creaky wooden chair and closed his eyes.  The skin of Sloan’s hands was soft, and her fingers were gentle as they carded through his hair.  She began to murmur something unintelligible which was slowly picked up by her traveler friends.  Pain began to build up behind Damon’s eyes and the feeling of Sloan’s fingers quickly turned inflammatory in nature.

The darkness his eyelids afforded him faded; light began to permeate his vision and then Damon found himself unable to move his limbs.  Private thoughts – far too dissimilar to his own to have come from his head – invaded Damon’s being.  And for a minute, Damon Salvatore ceased to exist.

He blinked hard and seemed to wake up in a standing position. 

“Neal, what are you doing?  We need to in the interrogation room,” his boss snapped.  He blinked again and Neal wondered where his head had been.  He shook of the uncertainly and smirked.

“Just thinking about your very pretty wife.  Did you see her this morning in that dress?  She’s wasted on you . . .” The words spilled forth as if unconsciously and his boss – what was his name again?  How had he forgotten his boss’ name?

His boss – Macon, yes that was it, scowled.  “Get in interrogation and do your job, Agent.”  He jerked a thumb toward the hallway behind him.  Neal saluted and sauntered past.  He ran his fingers over his ID badge, which was clipped to his trim waist, instinctively knowing that it read _Special Agent Neal Brody, Washington DC._

Neal frowned.  There was an itch in the back of his skull, distracting him . . . he clawed the back of his head and stepped into the interrogation room.  Sitting there with her hands cuffed down to the metal table was Katherine Pierce, wait, no – her face blurred and turned back into his suspect’s.  Who was Katherine Pierce?

“Problem, Agent?”  His suspect drawled.  She was very pretty, but her features were a little fuzzy around the edges and Neal suddenly felt faint.

“No,” Neal coughed into his hand.  His suspect smirked, her lips quirking in clear amusement.  Neal pursed his lips.  “What’s your name again?”

A flash of surprised flicked across her eyes for a moment before something entirely _other_ settled.  She pouted.  “Oh, you know who I am, Damon.”

Neal’s brows furrowed.  “Who’s –”

Damon was violently ejected from Neal Brody’s mind and his body arched up out of the chair.  He fell onto the dirt and vomited the vampire blood he’d ingested that morning.  Damon spluttered and squeezed his eyes shut; the vomit kept coming up his esophagus and felt like he was throwing up a waterfall.  His head spun and he felt . . . very confused.

Neal, no, no, his name was _Damon Salvatore,_ looked up and squinted into the darkening area around him.  Bodies littered the ground – all gory with their throats torn out.  “Steph?”

Small hands covered him then, wrapping around his waist and shoulders, helping him stand.  “Klaus had some contacts in the area that owed him a favor,” she explained.  “They went through and killed all the travelers within a ten mile radius that were involved.”  Stephanie’s hand slipped into her pocket and pulled out a vial of murky liquid.  “They found this on Sloan’s body.”

“The cure?”  Damon demanded.  He hated to admit it, but he was still feeling nauseous and uncomfortable, but the urge to feed on vampire blood – on his sister – was growing by the second.

“That’s what she said.”  She put it into his hands.  Damon tore off the stopper and downed the vial’s contents as quickly as physically possible.  He blinked rapidly at the sky as the pure _need_ that had driven him for the last few days faded away into his usual – normal – hunger for human blood.  He licked his lips and tilted his head down to look at his sister’s hopeful green eyes.  “Well?”

“It worked.”

Steph threw her arms around him and Damon held her in return.  He surveyed the train yard over her head.  “Klaus’ buddies sure did a number on this place.”

“Yeah.”  Stephanie let go and rubbed her face.  “The loss of life . . .” She sighed.

“They were probably up to something nefarious like taking over the world,” Damon pointed out.

Steph hugged herself.  “Yeah, well . . . they were still people.”

“Where did Enzo go?”  Damon changed the subject away from Steph’s guilty conscience.

“He got out of here pretty quickly once Sloan was killed,” Stephanie explained.  “But he seemed surprisingly angry.  Yelled something about a girl.”  Her face was scrunched into a puzzled frown.

Damon hummed.  A girl, huh?  “Shall we go home and let everyone the good news?  I’m cured, there will be no more travelers harassing us . . . a good team win, I’d say.”  He held out a hand.

Steph avoided his hand and clapped him on the back.  “Let’s go.  I’m hungry.”

Damon snickered.  “Me too.  Let’s stop for some tasty waitress on the way back to Mystic Falls . . .” His questions about Agent Brody faded from his mind as he thought more about returning to Elena, virus free.

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Stephanie stepped back into her bedroom that night with the knowledge that her brother and his mysterious doppelgänger were both safe.  He and Elena were out that evening at Whitmore, and Caroline had also returned to school after a celebratory drink at the Grill.  Bonnie had been absent from their entire ordeal, tired of their supernatural drama or occupied with her new witch in training, Steph couldn’t tell.  Steph slid off her jacket and laid it across the back of her desk chair.  She turned to fall into bed when cool hands placed themselves around her slightly distended waist.  Stephanie stiffened at the touch.

“Easy, love.”  Klaus’ breath caressed the back of her neck and Steph relaxed into his embrace.  “I missed you.”  His lips ghosted over her neck, soft and reassuring as they kissed her pale skin.

“Don’t you have a city to micromanage?”  Stephanie turned in his embrace to look up into his face.

“Elijah’s watching it for me,” Klaus said.  “You’re bigger,” he added a moment later, sounding surprised.  His pretty blue eyes were slightly widened and his mouth was a little slack.

“That usually happens,” Steph pointed out.  She unwrapped herself from his arms, but instead of pushing him away, Steph pulled Klaus along with her to her bed.  He sat and looked at her gleefully as she crawled into his lap and gripped his grisly jaw with her hands.  She kissed him and Klaus arched his body into hers, his crotch sliding against hers.  His slender fingers danced down her sides and then cupped her from behind, pulling her body closer to his.

Klaus bit into her lip, drawing blood, eliciting a gasp of pleasure and causing her head to tilt back.  Steph made quick work of getting rid of Klaus’ Henley, and taking advantage of his exposed torso, let her teeth sink into the meat of his shoulder.  Klaus grunted and tore off her shirt with his artist’s hands, fingers quick and agile.  They discarded their jeans to the foot of the bed in one quick movement and with their clothes strewn about on the floor; he flipped them over so her back was on the bed.  He leaned over her, grinning with his devil’s smile.

“I missed you,” Klaus breathed. 

“You sure?  Because I know you’ve been making eyes at Cami.”  Stephanie tilted her head on her pillow.  She was mostly teasing.  Klaus’ lip curled and his eyes turned amber right before ducked down.  He buried his face in her inner thigh and bit down, drinking her blood.  Stephanie arched up and an agreeable noise slipped out of her throat.

“I’m positive.”  Klaus’ smirk was bloody when he looked up back.  “Now, the next sound I’m going to hear is you screaming my name,” he promised.

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Later that night, Stephanie lied in Klaus’ arms, spent and comfortable.  The friction between them had made her warm, and so her unneeded blankets were pooled around their waists.  The moon was high in the sky; full and milky, it lit up the yard and the forest beyond the house.  With her nose buried in Klaus’ chest and his hands cradling their baby between them, Steph was content.

“Come back to New Orleans with me,” he whispered.  One of his hands came up and delicately put a string of hair behind her ear.  “I’ve taken care of Tyler.  You’ll be safe.”

Stephanie hummed.  “And everyone here?”

“Can make it without you,” Klaus said softly.  “I really did miss you.”  He kissed the top of her forehead.

And, because she’d missed him and the bustle of the Quarter, she said, “Yes.”

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End file.
